#And my potty-mouth ahhhh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nirikeehan · 3 years ago

Note

Happy Friday!!!! Might I suggest "Overdose" for Cullen and Samson? <3

Ahhhh thank you thank you thank you I have been dying to write these two for ages!!!

Boy did I go overboard with this one. I have head canon for days about how their friendship is complicated and morally ambiguous and I threw ALL OF THAT in here. Along with some deep meditation on the institutional corruption in the Templars and how they use lyrium addiction to control those in their ranks. Oh and a knife fight.

for @dadrunkwriting and @badthingshappenbingo

Overdose, Part Two: And Some Elegance

Despite what I'm calling it, this a standalone story, but it does answer questions posed in Part One. They are linked thematically but you definitely don't need to read the first part to understand this one.

Series: Dragon Age 2 and Dragon Age: Inquisition (this happens in the gap between the two)

Word Count: 5822 (I... cannot be stopped apparently)

Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Raleigh Samson, Rylen, brief cameo from my Hawke, discussion of Meredith tho she is not around for obvious reasons

CW: Drug use, drug addiction, PTSD, Samson has a potty mouth, canon typical violence

---

“Knight-Commander? Do you have a minute?”

Cullen tore his gaze away from the window. The Gallows’ inner courtyard was in full bloom this time of year, and he frequently found his eyes wandering to the hanging vines and large, fragrant flowers. It was a deceptive beauty, on full display from Meredith’s office. His office now. And still he could scare believe it, despite sitting at the desk himself, in her chair, the stacks of parchments and reports piling up with his own penmanship scribbled on them.

“Of course, Rylen. You may come in.”

The templar from Starkhaven entered with a bow that Cullen found unnecessary, but did not have the energy to contest. Rylen and his contingent had been a gift from the Maker these long, dark months, helping him and the few loyal Kirkwall templars pull the city from the brink of ruin. Rylen held out a file. “The report you requested from the City Guard just arrived. Signed by Guard-Captain Vallen herself.”

Cullen took the file, frowning. “Aveline didn’t have to do that. It was a trifle of a favor…”

Rylen shrugged. “She’s grateful. A lot of people are. Without us, half of Kirkwall would still be on fire.” He smirked. “I’ve heard rumors around town that they want to nominate you for the next viscount.”

“Shut your mouth,” Cullen warned, which only made his second-in-command laugh. “You know I’d rather have a spike driven through my head than run this city permanently.”

“That’s always the way,” Rylen said wistfully. “Those most suited to the position don’t want it.”

Cullen did not dignify this statement with a response. Instead, he dropped the file on the desk and opened it. After a few moments, he let out a bone-weary sigh.

“If you don’t mind my asking, ser,” Rylen said carefully, “what is this about?”

“I had a hunch. I asked the City Guard to trace the smuggling of illegal lyrium into the city.” Since the attack on the Chantry which had left Cullen in charge of the Kirkwall Templars, one of the longterm problems he’d inherited had been the leaking of lyrium onto the streets. It didn’t take long to find the culprits within the Order. Most of them had deserted their posts to fight in the Mage-Templar war; the stragglers had been caught by internal security and were serving time in the city jail. That should have ended the problem, but lyrium still wound up among the vulnerable populations of Kirkwall all the same — and there were more and more of those lately, since the city’s infrastructure had been all but destroyed. Cullen had wanted to know why. The City Guard found an outside force at work, and he’d requested names. The report confirmed his suspicions. “Samson.”

“Your former colleague?” Rylen asked. The two had never met, but Samson had a reputation that preceded him. “He’s moved on from trafficking mages to dealing drugs?”

“So it would appear.” And why not? There were no more mages in need of secret passage from Kirkwall. The Circles had been dissolved; every mage was now an apostate. They had their own networks and secret bases and sources of funding. They didn’t need a washed up former templar helping them for petty cash. “I had hoped… after the Chantry explosion, he would… would…”

What? Reform himself and return to the Templars, a depleted force that sorely needed him? Act as contrite as he had that day on the Wounded Coast, when he’d tried to convince Cullen and Hawke he should be reinstated? That was a fantasy dashed. Cullen had mistakenly believed the only obstacle standing between Samson and an honorable career was Meredith’s tyranny.

Samson had never arrived. At first Cullen feared him a casualty of the bloodbath that had followed the radical mage Anders’ attack, but after they had cleared the rubble and counted up the bodies, Raleigh Samson was not among them. He must have fled Kirkwall, with scores of other refugees… or so Cullen had believed. Now, many months later, with the illegal lyrium trade starting up again, seeing Samson’s name on the report signed by Aveline did not surprise Cullen as much as he wished it would.

Sensing his troubled thoughts, Rylen cleared his throat. “Seems to me, Knight-Commander, there’s two types of people who join our ranks. Some, like you and me, want to make the world a better place.” Cullen shot him a sharp look; they’d spent too many late nights together despairing the degeneration of the Order for Rylen to espouse such an uncritical view. His Knight-Captain quickly added, “Though it is debatable whether we’ve succeeded, despite our best efforts.”

Cullen let out a slow breath. “And?”

“Some people just like wielding power and a sword.” Rylen cocked his head. “Which type do you reckon your friend Samson is?”

Cullen narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t know him.”

“No, I suppose not.” Rylen nodded toward the file. “That say where he is?”

“There’s an address. Darktown. It notes he hasn’t been seen in a few days, though.”

“You want me to send some knights to knock on his door? If we find him, we can bring him in for questioning.”

“No,” Cullen said, with abrupt firmness. “He’ll respond better to a familiar face. I’ll go.”

“Alone?” Rylen looked doubtful. “You sure, Knight-Commander?”

His tone betrayed his true thoughts: not only did Rylen consider field work beneath Cullen, but dangerous as well.

“I’ll be all right. Besides…” Cullen flashed a weary grin. “It will be good to get off the Gallows.”

—

Cullen left without his armor. Arriving in Darktown in full plate emblazoned with the Templar crest had never done one any favors, even before the Chantry explosion. He entertained no illusions: dressed in civilian clothes, unshaven and with dark circles under his eyes, hair curling wildly in the oppressive humidity, he blended in with the average resident of Kirkwall’s underbelly just fine.

On his way to the ferry, he skirted the outer courtyard where he had once patrolled as Knight-Captain, when the Kirkwall Circle still had charges and his life still had a semblance of normalcy. Now it was a place best avoided, given that the petrified Meredith Stannard dominated the space, glittering scarlet in the sun. Cullen had only dared glance in twice since that fateful day, and both times had lost his breakfast shortly thereafter. The red lyrium statue had proven difficult to remove, between its heavy mass and the tendency for everyone who got too close to start hallucinating. He’d have to hire some dwarves one of these days. It was one more task on a list that never ended.

It did feel good to get off the Gallows. The salty air blew in cool and refreshing, and from the harbor the damage didn’t look so bad. The effect was depressingly short-lived. As soon as he stepped off the boat, he was accosted by beggars. Cullen demurred quietly, resolving to bring up the homelessness issue at the next city council meeting, and made sure to look each in the face. Child and elder and all ages in between, but none of the gazes had the hard grey eyes of his old friend.

He followed the sloping roads and cracked stairs to Darktown, repeating Samson’s alleged address in his mind. The buildings grew ramshackle, loiterers multiplied, and loose trash piled up on the street. Sandbags and spiked barricades still littered the area, though open violence had creased months prior. Once the sun disappeared, Cullen shivered despite the heat. It had pained him for years, to think of what had happened to Samson. The most undignified of falls, especially for someone whom Cullen had once thought to possess such bravado and charm.

Memories surfaced, tinged with nostalgia: Samson and his easy smile, feet splayed on the table in the dormitory’s common room, fixing him with a surprised look. What, you’ve never played Wicked Grace? Pull up a chair and I’ll teach you, kid. When Cullen tried to beg off, saying he had to go study the Chant of Light, Samson let out a full belly laugh. Bleeding hell, does no one in Ferelden know how to have any fun? Come on, I won’t tell Andraste if you don’t.

So Cullen had learned to play Wicked Grace.

He had learned other things as well. All the small methods by which Samson bent the rules, with a casual boldness that shocked a younger Cullen. And Samson could talk his way out of anything: why he had snuck in past curfew, stinking of the Blooming Rose; where that stash of Blackwater Rum had come from; why Ser Alrik’s ceremonial armor was smudged brown with obscenities, after the complaint of the fifth consecutive mage had gone ignored.

Once, in the wee hours of the morning, a nightmare had awoken Cullen into a shivering mess. He paced the corridors like a vengeful ghost, trying to outrun a dead man. He remembered nothing aside from his hands around Uldred’s throat, squeezing, but still could not dislodge the terror. He was so distracted he nearly ran down Samson where he leaned in a shadowy alcove, exhaling from a hand-rolled cigarette out the open window.

“You do this a lot,” Samson observed.

Ashamed, Cullen dropped his gaze to the floor. Rumors had accompanied him from Kinloch Hold, ones he’d never cared to address, and the other knights gave him a wide berth. Most of them, anyway. Samson studied him with a calm curiosity, acrid tendrils of smoke curling up from between his fingers. For a mortifying moment, Cullen thought he might burst into tears.

Samson cracked a lopsided smile, saving him. “I know what you need.” He tossed the cigarette out the window; one hand disappeared into a lapel pocket, the other grabbed Cullen by the wrist. Samson pressed a glass cylinder into his palm and closed his fist around it. “Something to take the edge off.”

Cullen opened his hand and stared at the vial of lyrium, warm to the touch, luminescent. As they often did, words failed him. “You— but— this is— what about you?”

He was inarticulately asking why Samson would sacrifice his own ration for someone he could barely call an acquaintance, but judging by the mischief in his eyes, Samson misinterpreted his words. “Don’t mind if I do.” He pulled another vial from his pocket and made an extravagant show of unscrewing the cap.

This was becoming too strange for Cullen to bear. Like every templar he’d ever met, he hoarded his lyrium rations under lock and key, taking the required dosage every morning after prayer and not a drop extra. Samson about to squander two full days’ worth with a half-mad insomniac in the dead of night.

“But what will you do when you run out?” Cullen blurted.

“Ah.” Something in Samsom’s smile darkened. “You ever notice, kid, just how paltry the Chantry’s lyrium allotment is? It’s like they want to give us just enough to keep us hungry for more. And if we’re hungry, we’re obedient.”

Cullen had not, in fact, noticed this, but he had noticed the soothing vibration radiating from the bottle into his hand. The blue glow captivated, creating an aura across his vision.

Samson chuckled. “It sings to you, don’t it?”

Cullen swallowed hard. “You stole this.” It sounded more like an accusation than he wanted it to.

Samson’s gaze hardened. “I prefer to call it getting an advance. They’re required to feed it to us our whole lives, you know. Even after we go loopy from the stuff in our old age. I’d rather enjoy it now, while I still can.” He held up the bottle as if in a toast. “You joining me or what, Rutherford?”

It was the first time Samson had called him anything other than kid; Cullen didn’t know whether to consider it an invitation or a threat. He grew aware of just how out in the open they were. If one of the senior knights were to find them here, about to binge on contraband—

“I can’t,” he protested, watching himself open the vial.

“Sure you can,” Samson said. “Live a little, eh? A bit extra won’t kill you. I promise, whatever demons you got rattling around in your skull will be chased right out.”

Cullen liked to think he hesitated longer than that, but he couldn’t be sure. He only remembered clinking bottles, and Samson saying, “Cheers, mate.” The two took the hit together; illicit laughter followed, fueled by the elated rush. For the first time in ages, Cullen felt like he’d made a friend.

The memory disintegrated. It was eight years later, and Cullen was Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, staring at the Darktown shanty that stood at Samson’s last known address.

—

A knock on the door went unanswered. Cullen rapped his knuckles against the splintered wood once every couple of minutes and scanned his surroundings. The hovel occupied the bleak end of an alley, abutting a sheer rock wall. The nearest lantern hung several yards away, casting him deep in shadow.

The entire area seemed deserted, and none more so than Samson’s residence. Something about its lifelessness set Cullen’s nerves on edge. He hadn’t wanted to consider why Samson vanished days ago, but now the possibilities piled up in his mind, each less pleasant than the one before.

The front facade had no windows, and shouting his intentions wasn’t likely to yield favorable results. With a quick glance around, Cullen tried the door. Locked. Unsurprising, but inconvenient all the same. The Kirkwall Templars had possessed the authority to enter a premises unannounced for over a decade, but he preferred not to damage property on the way in.

He walked the perimeter at a casual pace, a cover story about buying lyrium coming to him with discomforting ease. The threat of a lowly addict’s life had long haunted him, once Samson was expelled from the Order. The tension among the other knights had been palpable. Even Cullen, already Knight-Captain, felt the strain. He counted up the times in which he’d joined Samson for a “night cap” of lyrium, as his friend had dubbed it. Although it didn’t amount to terribly many — perhaps a dozen across a few years — Cullen doubted that would matter to Meredith if she had come so undone over some love letters. He had walked around on eggshells, waiting to learn that on his way out the door, Samson had disclosed the improprieties of Meredith’s own second-in-command.

It never happened. Nor did anyone else incur punishment. Whatever secrets Samson bore about his fellow templars, he kept them to himself. Perhaps that was what propelled Cullen forward with the belief that Samson could be reasoned with: he had been a good friend once, and loyal. Even so, the Champion of Kirkwall herself urged Cullen not to trust him. He was full of inconsistencies, Hawke had said. Samson claimed to care about mage rights one day, as long as it made him a copper; the next he insisted Meredith was correct and they needed to be reined in. Reinstate him if you like, Hawke had said later, in the privacy of Cullen’s office, but don’t come to me for help when your lyrium supply goes missing. That’s all he cares about in the end.

Cullen hadn’t submitted the recommendation to Meredith on Samson’s behalf. It seemed like too much of a risk, at the time.

The side of the hut possessed a squarish opening, what passed for a window in these parts. Cullen crouched and peered inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He’d learned as a recruit that even the most innocuous spaces could harbor someone ready to attack, and his hand hovered near his boot where he’d tucked a dagger. Minutes passed, but nothing stirred. The furniture was minimal: a sleeping pallet on the floor, cooking pot over a cold fire pit, stacks of empty crates.

Tentatively satisfied no one would come at him swinging, Cullen climbed in the window. Straightening, he pulled a candle from his pocket and lit it. If anything, illumination made the place more despondent, not less. The hovel comprised only one room, and was devoid of personal effects or stores of food. Cullen wondered whether the City Guard’s report had given the correct address. He doubted anyone had lived here for months.

He searched the spare abode regardless. He had conducted hundreds of home raids in his Templar career, pulled mages from hiding spots he would have deemed too small to fit a nug, let alone a person. The desperate were nothing if not inventive.

Can’t say I miss the work. Tear-stained faces and pleading relatives, stray fists and raking nails, staying calm as yet another stranger called him a heartless bastard — such things wore one down. He hadn’t joined the Templar Order to inflict misery, and hadn’t relished it, even when he’d most fervently believed they were in the right.

Maybe it’s just as well the Circles are gone, he thought, but the reminder that mages and templars alike were out there killing each other over it depressed him. He’d seen enough senseless violence in Kirkwall to last a lifetime. He couldn’t understand anyone who wanted to keep it going, whether in the name of freedom or order or anything else. As he had in his youth, Cullen yearned for a just cause to rally behind. Aside from keeping the city from falling back into chaos, he couldn’t fathom what that could be — nor whether the Templars had any business participating, if one existed.

While moving aside the rotted crates, his boot caught on a seam. Cullen knelt and brought his candle closer to the ground. Someone had arranged the stacks in the precise configuration to conceal a trap door. He grabbed the large metal ring and pulled. A yawning door opened in the floor. From below came the sound of dripping water and the faint gleam of torchlight.

Rylen had been right: coming alone was a bad idea. He should return to the Gallows for backup. It was one thing to visit an old friend in his own home, quite another to enter an unfamiliar passage armed with nothing but a dagger. Darktown was full of such tunnels. Some stretched all the way to the Wounded Coast, favored by smugglers, pirates and other assorted ne’er-do-wells.

So which are you, Samson?

He wasn’t angry, or even disappointed. The whole business had an air of inevitability, something he’d been expecting since he first saw Samson’s name in that report.

Whatever happened to him, I’ve contributed to it.

Cullen blew out the candle and lowered himself into the hole.

—

He heard the sea before he saw it. The narrow tunnel he’d followed for the better part of an hour opened into a wide grotto. The afternoon sun cast long rays of light between jutting rocks and shimmering water, suffusing everything with an orange glow.

Cullen approached slowly, keeping to the shadows. He did not hear voices nor movement, but someone lived here. Ornate pieces of furniture were strewn about: a desk, a wardrobe, a sideboard laden with overripe fruit and loose gold coins. On the far side, the rock floor gave way to the water, where a rowboat bobbed. Beside it stood several stacked crates, and these did not look empty. Cullen did not recognize the symbol painted on it, but took note of the skull-like face with a red bar over its eyes.

On a divan sprawled a figure who looked like he’d been thrown there. He lay on his back, one arm and one leg hanging to the ground. Cullen ran over, fearing he was too late. It took several pained seconds to notice the other man’s chest still rose and fell.

Cullen let out a sigh in relief and frustration. “Samson.” No response. “Samson.”

“Mrrrsgh?” After a long moment, Samson cracked one eye and stared up at Cullen as if they’d never met.

It was, perhaps, true enough. It couldn’t have been more than a year since they’d last seen each other, but Samson looked gaunter. His dark hair had begun to thin in front. His face was sloppily unshaven, the space around his eyes sunken. Although his clothes looked less shabby, the man himself seemed to be slowly disintegrating.

“Well, well,” Samson slurred, his eyes narrowed into slits. “If it isn’t Knight-Commander Cullen.”

Cullen was taken aback by his animosity. All of the measured words he had planned to say evaporated. “Samson,” he demanded, “what are you doing here?”

“Getting some goddamn sleep. Or at least I was, before you showed up.” Samson groaned and pushed himself, with some effort, into a sitting position. “Should be asking you that question. Ain’t right, barging into a man’s own quarters without knocking first.”

He continued mumbling semi-intelligibly, face glistening with sweat. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils wide. Only then did Cullen notice the low table before them, crowded with empty vials and remnants of powder — the dust, Samson called it: lyrium in a raw, potent form. “You’re high.”

Samson brought his hands together in a slow clap. “Someone give the kid a prize. How long did it take to figure that one out, dog lord? What a genius. A real prodigy. No wonder they’re talking about making you viscount.”

“No one is making me viscount,” Cullen snapped.

“That’s not what I heard. I heard you single-handedly saved Kirkwall all by your lonesome. That they’re lining up from here to Hightown to suck your prick, if only you’d let ‘em.” Samson let out a grim chuckle. “Speaking of, how’s Meredith?”

Cullen punched him in the face. Samson stumbled onto all fours at his feet, coughing. Cullen stared at what he had done with a stunned horror.

Samson spat out a bit of saliva mixed with blood. “I forgot. Dogs do bite.”

Cullen shook out his hand, winced at the radiating pain. He’d probably broken a knuckle or two connecting with Samson’s jaw, but nothing hurt like the shame. It had been years since petty insults set him off. This was worse than unprofessional — he was supposed to be here appealing to Samson as an ally.

“I’m sorry,” he said, kneeling. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have,” Samson retorted, but something in his feverish eyes softened. “Hell of a right hook you’ve got, though.”

Cullen let out a surprised laugh. That was the Samson he remembered. “Come on, let me help you up.”

He seized Samson under the armpit and dragged him onto the divan. Samson fairly melted into the cushions, his eyes slipping closed. Cullen stood by, trying to think of how to salvage this mess. His gaze returned to the table. It was difficult to tell how long some of the empty bottles had been there. “How much have you had?”

Samson waved his hand indistinctly in the air. There was a worrying grey tinge to his skin. Never mind the dilated pupils, perspiration, irritability… “Samson, you’re showing classic signs of lyrium overindulgence—”

“Who are you, my mum?”

If Samson had done too much lyrium, it would be irresponsible to leave him alone. But given how things had started off, staying around to monitor him might only escalate the situation further.

“I’d like to think I’m your friend,” Cullen said carefully, “but you haven’t exactly made it easy lately.”

“Oh, I haven’t made it easy? How many times did you come visit once that bitch kicked me out on my arse? Never seemed to find the time to make it down to the gutter, did you?” Samson cracked open his eyelids. “Then I put myself on the line to help you with them wild mages, hoping for my shield back, and you… what? Just conveniently forgot to bring it up with the Knight-Commander?”

Cullen swallowed hard, remembering Hawke’s words. “Meredith never would have tolerated something like this, I’ll tell you that much.”

Samson choked on a guffaw. “I’m glad she turned into a bloody statue. Got what she fucking deserved.”

Cullen took a deep breath to keep from hitting him again. It was the talk of Meredith he found so intolerable, even after he hadn’t been able to follow her into that final mad descent. It wasn’t just Samson, either. He had been circling it with anyone who cared to bring it up, and it always happened the same way: the freezing up, the difficulty breathing, the lashing out if pushed.

Samson had always known how to push.

“She wasn’t all bad, you know,” Cullen said hotly. Samson began to laugh, which only made him angrier. “I’m serious.”

“Don’t make it any less ridiculous.” Samson smirked. “She was a cunt and you know it.”

Cullen did not know why he rushed to defend her. “What if I told you Meredith saved my life?”

“Ha, sure she did. When?”

“When I first got to Kirkwall. You recall what I was like.” Cullen grimaced. It was a chore to think of himself back then. “If it wasn’t for Meredith, I don’t know what would have happened to me. Without her mentorship…”

“Nah, kid. You’re remembering it wrong. All she cared about was blind obedience.” Samson sat up. “I was there. You chased her approval, but you were always fair with people — mages, templars, whoever. I seen too many knights decide cruelty was the only way to get in good with her. You never did that. ’S the only reason I ever bothered with you, to be honest.” He pointed a decisive finger at Cullen. “Meredith didn’t save you. You saved yourself.”

Cullen opened his mouth, but closed it again. Something painful dislodged deep inside him and swam around in his chest. He sat down heavily on the divan, put his face in his hands. Samson gave him an absent pat on the shoulder.

“And now you’re Knight-Commander. How’s that feel?” When Cullen didn’t answer, he snorted. “Heavy lies the crown, eh?”

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” Cullen admitted. “With the Circles gone, and now the war… how long before the Knight-Vigilant makes a decree and we’re forced to join in? I’m not even sure I believe in what the Templars stand for anymore.”

“Change is in the wind, my friend,” Samson said. “And the whole Chantry can go piss in it, if you ask me.”

Cullen frowned. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

Samson sighed. “No, you never do. Always looking for an authority figure to tell you what a very good boy you are.” He leaned on an elbow and narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “You never wanna reach out and grab power for yourself. Don’t you think it would feel real good, just once?”

Cullen got the sense Samson was seeking an answer he didn’t know how to give. “Not really.”

“Lack of imagination, kid.” Samson shook his head. “That’s what’s wrong with you. You always gotta operate within these tiny boxes. You’ll never see the big picture that way.”

“All right.” Cullen was speaking with someone deep in a lyrium haze. “If you say so, Samson.”

“I do say so. You’ll see. One day, you’ll see.” He sat up abruptly, rubbing his hands together. “But hey, where’s my manners? You come all this way and I don’t even offer you a party favor.” He leaned over the table, searching through the detritus.

“Er,” Cullen said, remembering with an uncomfortable jolt the reason for his visit. “That’s not necessary.”

“C’mon, you’re Knight-Commander, who ya gonna snitch to? I ain’t even pinching from the Templar stores anymore. Got me a new supplier. His product is out of this world.”

“I’m sure it is,” Cullen said stiffly, “but don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Pfft, me? I’m fine. I think it’s you who needs to relax.” He located a bottle of dark glass, shook it near his ear. “All this heavy nonsense about Meredith and the Templars… when was the last time you took a day off?”

Cullen thought back, and back. He couldn’t come up with an answer.

Samson snorted. “That’s what I thought. You ever do a hit of the dust? I got some liquid around here somewhere if you’d rather…”

“No, that’s… that’s all right. I really don’t need — anything.”

That wasn’t entirely true. He could feel the hunger uncoiling in him the longer they spoke of it. It was late in the day, his last dose near dawn this morning. The older he got the more he realized Samson had been right those years ago — the vials stayed the same size, but they satisfied less and less.

The bottle in Samson’s hand enticed. He hadn’t even opened it. Emanating from the bottle was a sweet music that Cullen felt rather than heard.

He stood before the sensation could overwhelm him. Samson laughed. “What did I tell you?”

“You weren’t kidding.” Cullen began to pace. I should leave. He was not in control of this situation — and maybe never had been.

“I mean it, you’ll feel amazing. Bloody invincible. My supplier knows what he’s doing.”

“And who’s your supplier?” Cullen feigned polite indifference.

“He prefers to remain anonymous. For now. I’ll take you to meet him if you’re curious. He’s got a whole new enterprise lined up, and we could use someone like you.” Samson poured something from the bottle, but Cullen didn’t dare look back. “What do you say? You’re wasted with the Templars, let’s be honest. You really wanna spend the rest of your days cleaning up Kirkwall’s trash?”

Cullen laughed uneasily. He pictured Samson’s supplier — some upstart from Orzammar, probably, counting gold far below ground. “You mustn’t know me very well, if you think I’d leave the Templars to join the Carta, Samson.”

“Never said it was the Carta. You really gotta stop thinking in those tiny little boxes. My employer, he’s aiming bigger.”

Scraping sounds followed. Cullen glanced over his shoulder. Samson had a dagger in hand, dividing the substance into lines.

“How much bigger?” Cullen asked softly.

“Oh. Pretty big. Can’t say much more unless I know you’re on board.” His eyes gleamed. “Now are you gonna keep standing over there like a coward, or are you gonna start living your goddamn life?”

Shakily, Cullen returned to where Samson sat. In the glow of the setting sun, on a small looking glass, the powder glittered. The sight of it made his breath catch. “Samson, it’s red.”

“Yeah, so?”

Horror overcame the desire. “You’re bringing red lyrium into Kirkwall? After what it did to Meredith?”

“I think we’ve established I don’t give a flying fuck what happened to Meredith.” Samson shrugged. “So it’s a different color, kid, what’s the big deal?”

Cullen grabbed the looking glass and threw it as hard as he could. It hit a rock wall and shattered, raining down shards and a cloud of crimson dust.

“Bleeding hell.” Samson leapt to his feet. “What the fuck is the matter with you, huh?”

“The matter with me?” Cullen pushed past him, storming over to the crates emblazoned with the ghoulish face. He ripped off the top of the highest crate, his swollen knuckles protesting. A wave of humming undulation hit him. Inside were bottles and bottles, ready for consumption. “I know what this stuff does, Samson. I saw her go mad. I saw her transform.” He whirled. “And you’re ingesting it? You want to sell it?”

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Samson said quietly. He stood in a patch of shadow, the dagger gripped in his hand. “I’ve been very kind to you so far today. I don’t think you want to see me angry.”

Cullen tilted his head. “Is that a threat?”

“Oh, I assure you it is.”

In a few short strides, Samson could reach him. Cullen’s own dagger was still tucked into his boot, and his sword hand was already bruised. He raised his hands in hesitant surrender.

“That’s right, nice and slow. You ain’t gonna do anything stupid now, are you?”

Cullen considered his options. He was almost certainly going to do something stupid. “Drawing a blade on the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall isn’t the smartest move I’ve seen, either.”

Samson sighed. He sounded genuinely apologetic. “I thought we were friends, Cullen.”

“We were.” Cullen swallowed hard.

Samson motioned with the dagger. “Over here. Away from the product, if you please.”

Cullen stood his ground. “Is the lyrium really worth that much to you?”

“You don’t understand.” Samson took a step closer. “I’m trying to save you from what’s coming.”

“And what is that?”

A tiny smile crossed Samson’s face. “A reckoning.”

Cullen lifted a foot and kicked viciously backward, enough to set the stack of lyrium crates off balance. They toppled into the water; panic flashed across Samson’s face. “No!” He lunged forward.

Cullen dropped into a crouch and wrenched the dagger from his boot. He was clumsier with his off hand, and he brought the blade up to parry Samson’s blow almost too late. Steel clashed against steel, and Cullen gritted his teeth, pushing back with everything he had. Samson was far stronger than he’d been hoping, stronger than he had a right to be, even when sober.

“You son of a bitch,” Samson spat, slashing again and again. “That’s bloody irreplaceable. The red stuff’s so delicate!”

Good, Cullen thought. If he was going to die for this, at least he knew more red lyrium wouldn’t find its way onto Kirkwall’s streets. He knocked aside a blow aimed at his face and grabbed Samson around the knees, tackling him.

They fought, kicking and rolling, swinging and dodging steel. At last, Cullen landed a lucky blow and the dagger went skittering out of Samson’s hand. Cullen’s blade stopped at his throat. Samson froze, and for several seconds the only sound came from the waves crashing outside the cove.

“Go on, then.” Samson chuckled, but fear flickered in his eyes. “End it.”

Cullen shook his head. He moved away, struggled to his feet. He kept the dagger pointed at Samson, bent over to catch his breath. “You will leave Kirkwall,” he said at last. “For good. I don’t care where you go, but when I come back with the City Guard, this place had better be empty.”

“That’s it?” Samson demanded. “After all that?”

“That’s it.” Cullen lowered the blade. “This is lunacy. It was bad enough with Meredith. I won’t watch it consume you too.” He limped away. He had bashed a knee in the scuffle, and his side ached where Samson’s dagger grazed him.

Cullen turned back only once. Samson remained on the ground, growing smaller in the fading daylight. “The next time I see you, I’ll arrest you myself.”

He was well into the tunnel when he heard Samson’s final words, low and fervent as a vow.

“The next time you see me, you’ll wish that you hadn’t.”

---

Notes: I was confused for ages why Samson calls lyrium “the dust” in DA2 when in the games we only see people drinking it like Koolaid, until I saw in the World of Thedas there is mention of a powder form. So yes I am positing you can snort powdered lyrium for a bigger high and no I am not taking questions at this time.

Also relevant is that the World of Thedas mentions something about Samson having an increased dependence on regular lyrium which also gives him higher immunity to red lyrium. I definitely played around with that here. I was envisioning an amount that would kill Cullen (as shown in part one) would probably just get Samson super high but he’d be okay. And with red lyrium, even stronger/more cognizant than normal, which allows him to get the drop on Cullen later.

I find it kind of hilarious how so much of Inquisition harps on the danger of red lyrium, but then during his side quest, Cullen, an established lyrium addict, follows you into the Shrine of Dumat amid giant red lyrium crystals and seems perfectly fine. (Once I turned around and he was standing ON one and I literally screamed, “CULLEN, NO.”) I’ve always wanted to write something where he is tempted by red lyrium, you know, at least a little.

#cullen rutherford #raleigh samson #Samson is the friend who will get you high when what you really need is therapy #This is Law & Order: Kirkwall for a bit #Cullen does some detective work and I’m here for it tbh #fics #dragon age drunk writing circle #bad things happen bingo #dragon age inquisition #dragon age 2

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et-lesailes · 5 years ago

Text

beard of greys: gender reveal

BEARD OF GREYS

pairing: chris evans x wife!reader

word count: 1122

summary: you’re pregnant with baby number 4, and everyone’s wondering if yet ANOTHER little girl is going to be added to your beautiful family with chris!

themes: family life, fluff

taglist: @evanstush, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebastian-i-stan, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @denisemarieangelina, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @savemesteeb, @raveviolet, @hurricanerinwrites, @captainamerica-is-bae, @shaddixlife, @tessa-bl, @marvelouspottering, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc, @thegetawaywriter, @dwights-new-plague, @rynabarnesrogers, @fckdeusername, @doloreschanal, @ssworldofsw, @la-cey, @buckybarnesplumwhore, @hevans-angel, @chuckbass-love, @stardust-galaxies, @smyfmj

notes: decided to do a little continuation of b.o.g since so many people seemed to like this little family! i’ll probably be adding more to it just for fun and not necessarily in any chaptered order, just to write :) hope you guys like it! graphic creds go to @thewritingdoll !

“So? Do you guys think it’s another girl?”

You laugh as you hold your small bump, looking up at your husband with a raised brow. “Ya know, this time we have a feeling it could actually be a boy.” Chris grins and nods, wrapping his arms around you from behind to cradle your belly lovingly. “Honestly, though? I kind of love being a girl dad. My little princesses are just too fuckin’ precious.”

His brother Scott laughs but nods immediately in agreement. “The girls are so cute. But also, you guys need to invest in birth control. You’re just pumping these babies out, like, every other day.” He jokes, and both of you laugh loudly. “Hey, we want a big family, okay?” Chris speaks defensively, pecking your cheek gently. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yup!” you answer cutely, smiling fondly as you look over at your children playing with the kids of other party guests. Despite this being your fourth child, you and Chris were having your first gender reveal party. You had made it a more intimate affair with the girls, deciding to simply find out together, but this time both of you thought it could be fun to make an event out of it.

“Look at Nova, she’s getting so big.” Scott comments, smiling as he watches the recently turned one-year-old toddle towards her twin sisters with her arms extended out to keep her balance. “Geez, I know. And the twins are practically little women now. They say the funniest things sometimes, stuff I didn’t know three-year-olds knew about.” Chris chuckles, then blinks when Nova falls onto the grass. “You’re okay, sweetheart! Walk it off,” he calls lovingly; both of you know by now that making a big deal out of falling only upsets and worries the baby more. She looks around with wide eyes, then to Chris, then stands herself back up and decides to stumble over to him instead.

“Hi there, little cutie!” you greet when she arrives, your eyes twinkling happily as you watch Chris scoop her up into his arms. She immediately starts giggling and clapping her hands, a trick Eliana and Kinsley taught her because of how much they’d cheer her on when she was learning how to take steps by herself. “I can’t believe you’re so little and you’re going to be a big sister soon,” Chris murmurs, leaning in and kissing his daughter’s forehead.

“Mama!” Kinsley calls, coming over with Eli. You can’t help but gush over them in their matching white dresses- you really didn’t think you’d be that type of mom, but with twins, how could you not be? Now you have all sorts of matching bathing suits and clothes for the four of you, and Chris simply finds it adorable. You only reserved these things for special occasions, though- having your girls match every single day, especially when you and Chris are strongly encouraging them to be their own people and have their own personalities, would be a bit too much.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s up?” you ask, reaching down to run your fingers through her long brown locks. “Is the baby coming yet?” she asks curiously, and you laugh softly, shaking your head. “No, love, we’re just finding out if the baby's a girl or a boy today. The baby won’t actually be here for another few months.”

“What do you guys want? A boy or a girl?” Scott asks curiously with a smile, and Kinsley immediately bounces around. “A… boy!” Eliana frowns, shaking her head. “No, a girl! Not a boy!”

“Yeah, a mini version of your dad? Ugh.” Scott playfully shudders and Chris laughs, lightly punching his arm with his free hand. “Excuse you, I was absolutely precious as a kid. Ya know, besides the times I was beating you up or tricking you into wetting your pants.” Eli wrinkles her nose upon hearing this. “You have to use the potty!” she chirps helpfully, and you giggle softly as you nod. “That’s right! And you and Kinsley are so good at using the potty! Speaking of which, do either of you have to go?”

“Uhh…. yeah, I do!” Kinsley jumps around, and Chris gently places a hand on your back. “I got it, I’ll take her. Why don’t you get everyone ready for the reveal, hm?” You smile and give him a soft peck on the lips. “Sounds good, babe, thanks.”

You watch him walk towards the house, bouncing Nova in one arm while holding Kinsley’s hand, Eli running behind not wanting to miss out on the fun. You can’t help but sigh softly in pure happiness. You don’t know how you got so lucky to have such a beautiful family, but you certainly don’t take it for granted.

“Alright, everyone! Gather around!”

You can’t help but squeal nervously as Chris lifts up the giant black balloon you’re going to pop- the color of the confetti that comes out of it will tell you the gender. His mom is standing nearby holding Nova while Kinsley and Eliana are next to you, their little blue eyes eager.

“Okay, baby.” Chris holds it up with a smile, biting his lip. “Ready? Three… two…. one!”

“Eeeek!” you poke the balloon with the needle, a wide smile spread across your face, though your mouth instantly transforms into an ‘o’ shape upon seeing the confetti that comes out.

“It’s a boy!!” Chris yells, looking at you with wide eyes before grabbing you and pulling you into a hug. “Oh my God, it’s a boy!” You hug him back tightly, laughing loudly from joy. “Ahhhh! We’re having a boy! Girls, did you see that?” You pull back to bring the twins in closer to both of you, smiling as the blue confetti rains around you. “There’s a cute little baby boy in Mama’s belly! Can you believe it?”

“Yay!!” Kinsley cheers loudly, but sees Eliana’s disappointed face. “Don’t worry, Eli. Boys are fun too.” Chris blinks and raises an eyebrow in amusement, wrapping an arm around his mom to hug her. “And you know this because?” he asks playfully protective, but is still laughing from happiness as he takes Nova from the other. Kinsley smiles cheekily, hugging his legs. “Because Daddy’s fun!”

He grins and crouches down, kissing her cheek and then Eli’s. “That’s right, and he’s always going to have fun with every single one of you no matter how many babies there are. I love you, my little sunshines.”

“Love you, Daddy.” Eliana hugs him cutely, burying her face in his shirt. “But can you and Mommy have a baby girl next?”

“How about… ten girls?!” he asks jokingly as he stands back up, and you laugh, clearing your throat. “How about… having some care and concern for your pregnant wife and her poor vagina?” you mumble, and he grins, pulling you close to his side. “Uh, I’d say I have a lot of care and concern for both, thank you very much.”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #chris evans x you

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leyyvi · 3 years ago

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hi ley! i know we don't talk but i just binge-read Paychecks with a Side of Intimacy and i just HAD to send you a review. i'll try leave this as spoiler-free as possible.

I AM OBSESSED.

God, this is perfect. I am not exaggerating when I say it's up in my top 10. It's perfectly relatable. I finished uni a month ago and I'm like "?????" or "now what tf do i do" and i am painfully broke... i have definitely considered the sugar baby lifestyle lmao.

I love the interactions between reader and levi. he's so smooth and sauve and SO COOL. HES PERFECT. And you captured his painfully awkward self and his quirks. I stayed up til 2AM reading this and had to get up three hours later but... WORTH ITTTTTT. i would run from the opportunity do any sexy stuff with an irl man 40 years older than me... but if he's 31, is 5'3", has a potty mouth, tons of money and has a mysterious past and is kind in his own weird way and has a tendency to make poop jokes? a bitch might just jog a little

your writing is fabulous. it flows very nicely and is very easy to read! it's descriptive but without too much embellishment. something i could afford to work on, i am very wordy when i write. unnecessarily so. reader's past too, gosh-- the poor girl. i feel so bad. i have no emotional resiliance so i'd be crying nonstop and flipping out at everyone. but she seems to be handling this just fine. kudos. i cry if someone looks at me the wrong way, nvm going through...you know, THAT.

i really hope you continue this! there's no pressure to, but i am eagerly waiting for the next installment!!! 💕💕💕💕

(the smut is extraordinary btw. i was crossing my legs on the bus this morning rereading the car scene.)

- cece ^-^

HI CECE i apologize for not getting to your msg sooner!! AHHHH you are so so sweet ;;; god i understand, the desperation for money is a little too real :') !!!! i hope you caught up on your sleep from reading btw omg????

but if he's 31, is 5'3", has a potty mouth, tons of money and has a mysterious past and is kind in his own weird way and has a tendency to make poop jokes? a bitch might just jog a little" HELP the way i giggled reading this but YES so true so true friend!!!

reader :((( yeah id be constantly crying too i am not strong enough for anything she goes through :') and honestly i feel like im prettyh wordy with my writing (god bless grammarly, my savior, the loml) but AHHH im glad yoiu're liking it so far!!!!!!!! thanks fso much for stoppin by i really did enjoy reading your input! it's much appreciated <33333

#pwasoi.ask

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saintsurvivors · 4 years ago

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Hi! I love your writing!! For the Whump Drabbles, could you do #56?

No pressure, have a fabulous day!!

@whumpflumpthump I just realized when I sent that last ask, I didn't give you a character😅 Sorry about that, I would love it if you did Mac, thanks, and sorry again

No. 56 Begging

Ahhhh! no problem fam, honestly, thank you so much for sending this in and sorry for your wait!! <3

warnings: broken bones, shitty self esteem, referenced torture but non graphic, jack’s potty mouth and atrocious southern accent.

Mac’s broken bones before. He’s not exceedingly clumsy, but whilst cuts and bruises are a warriors lost, broken bones and concussions seem to be a spies lot, especially ones that deal with explosions and under the table incidents that DXS do. Never mind the fact that he’d broken several fingers and ribs whilst back downrange, had barely been able to stoop when things had gone wrong so spectacular and Al had been less ...well, had been less Al and more parts of Al.

But human minds aren’t designed to remember pain, not really, even ones that are eidectic memory. The neurons remember it, but you forget what caused it, what made your heart stammer, what made your lungs seize, what made you want to jackknife up from your bed in the middle of the night, face wet with tears and blood beneath your nails because you’ve scratched your throat raw. You only remember it when it’s happening again, when you’ve felt that loss, that break.

Mac’s good at compartmentalization. Too well, often times. Jack doesn’t quite understand, not really though he tries, just how afraid Mac is, how afraid he is that if he even begins to open those tiny little boxes, meticulously labelled and stored away in the shelf of his mind, that he might not ever get them back closed. Everything he doesn’t, can’t deal with, handle. Everything he wishes would be wiped clear like the last equation of the white board by the eraser. But it isn’t that easy.

Maybe that’s why he can’t help it, why he leans so easily upon Jack, despite Jack no doubt hurting just as much as he does. Broken bones and concussions are a spies lot, but Mac thinks that kidnappings and hurt are a MacGyver and Dalton special, and wishes that it wasn’t. Wonder sometimes, in the back of his mind just how much Jack regrets meeting him. Wonders if Jack wishes he’d walked away at the end of his original tour and had left a stubborn bomb nerd in the sand of Afghanistan. Wonders how long he’d have lived; it’s a question he likes to ask himself, especially now, after missions, or when he and Jack are traipsing back to exfil after things have gone to shit.

Thinks he knows the answers, but always swallows the question and the answer, swallows the pennies he can taste too, doesn’t want to turn around and accidentally spit it out on Jack. Jack, whose already bloodied, bruised and aching. He’s got probable fractured ribs, but he can’t rest because he has to help haul Mac’s stupid, incapable ass out of the fire. He can’t keep doing this, not to his partner, not to Jack.

His left leg buckles, fire lancing up his shin to his thigh, spreading through his hip. his ankle twists further, and he only just manages to avoid bringing Jack down with him by twisting and ducking, knows that Jack’s ribs can’t take the strain and Jack’s reflexes would have him letting go. The ground is hard and cold, he can already feel the bruises forming over bruises, wonders if he’ll have the entirety of their kidnapping marked out on his skin like the world’s most fucked up map. Wonders if he’ll be able to read all the pit stops and roads, he’s where they first captured us, here’s where they fractured Jack’s ribs up after a failed escape attempt, here’s where they almost waterboarded me, here’s where they shattered my shin with a hammer because I called someone an asshole and Jack punched their lights out-

A frantic hand tucks beneath his armpit, tries to get him up, clamps down on his instinctive cries, blinks reflexively in place of the full body flinch he wants to give.

“C’mon man, we gotta hustle, I think they’re right behind,” Jack crouches as best he can, tries to get his shoulder jammed underneath Mac’s, tries to haul him up through sheer force of strength. A wheezing grunt escapes, pained. God, Mac is so selfish. “Get up, hoss, don’t do this to me, now.”

“You gotta go, Jack,” He says, looks Jack in the face, sees the wide, pain lined eyes, the grit of his teeth. He’s in so much pain, Jack is, exhausted to his very bones, beaten and bloodied. He doesn’t deserve this. “You, you need to leave.”

Jack pauses for a single moment, his arm around Mac’s waist tightens, leaves Mac breathless, dizzy, with breathlessness and pain. Jack loosens immediately, but that rare look of anger doesn’t. Seems to only grow deeper.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jack far enough growls it, anger and pain, his eyes flash, he looks furious. Furious enough to hurt, to break, to punch. He does neither, only look at Mac like Mac’s said something so stupid, so out of far left field that it doesn’t even compute, as if Jack hasn’t had the same thoughts.

“Just go, Jack!” Mac hisses, insists, tries to shove himself backwards out of Jack’s grip, manages to break it, only to immediately miss it. He’s so fucking selfish. “Look, I’m just weighin’ you down, at this point, baggage, dead fuckin’ weight, you know this, man! You gotta go!”

“Now, I know that’s them blows to the heads talkin’, because I’m pretty sure I didn’t just hear my partner say to leave him the fuck behind!” It’s angry, angry and harsh and pained. An edge to it that has Mac’s back straightening, a shiver roiling down his spine, something pooling in his gut that he hasn’t paid attention to for the longest of times, because like Al used to say, it isn’t the bomb that’s going to kill you, it’s the emotions.

“Jack, please,” He tries to plead, can hear the shouts getting closer, the bark of angry shouting, he can’t let Jack be taken, not again, not when it was Mac that got them into this. “Please, just, go, already! They won’t be able to keep up with you. I can distract them-”

“Boy, are you stupid?” Jack hisses, and that seems to be the last straw. He grits his teeth, face turning red, hand shaking from where he’s tucked it up around Mac’s waist, hauling him up. Mac barely gets his feet beneath him, before Jack is fairly enough marching him forward, eyebrows knitted together, eyes flashing.

“Jack.” Mac hisses, pleads, begs. He’s got no chance but to go forward, pain sunfire hot, chemistry fire burning. He’s sick to his stomach, swallows down the bile. Every foot forward is agony, gut punch deep.

“No, Mac.” Jack grits out. He’s sweating, red faced. His ribs seem to creak with every movement, but he’s got Mac locked too tightly against him for Mac to do anything. They step wrong and Mac lets out a thin yelp. Jack doesn’t even flinch, only grabs the arm he forced Mac to throw around his shoulder further over, presses the swell of his thumb harder over the wrist pulse point. “No, Mac, I ain’t leavin’ you. You know why? Because you’re a fuckin’ stubborn ass of a kid who I still want to punch sometimes and you’ve got the shittiest set of emotions I’ve ever seen and I mean that, I’ve dealt with Deacon and that guy is a hot mess, but fuckin’ Christ, Mac, telling me to leave you behind?”

Something seems to have rattled loose inside of him, something hurt and vicious. Mac falls silent, keeps his hurt noises locked behind his teeth.

“We’re both gettin’ outta here, hoss, I don’t care what that stupid brain a’ yours is saying, and I swear to High Heaven that if you ever ask me to leave you behind, I will knock you on your skinny ass and drag you there, do you get me? ‘Baggage, dead weight’-” Jack scoffs, literally hauls Mac up over a mound of rocks; his anger seems to be the only thing keeping him going. “Biggest crock a’ shit I’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you what Mackie, if i ever meet that pops a’ yours I’m gonna be beltin’ him so hard I swear-”

“Jack,” Mac says, soft, gentle. Something swells up inside of him, warm, cosy, like he’s just slipped into a hot bath. Even the fiery hot pain of his broken leg seems to have been soothed. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, he says,” Jack’s words sound angry, but his tone is soft. His fingers tap something out in morse code against the shiver of Mac’s ribs. something that spells i love you. “Just never ask me to leave you behind kiddo, I can’t. You go kaboom, I go kaboom, got me?”

“You go kaboom, I go kaboom.” Mac echos softly, wondrously, hopefully.

#whumpflumpthump #mac whump #jack whump #angus macgyver #jack dalton #macgyver 2016 #!!!#kw #this got LONG #prompt

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skinks · 4 years ago

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hi!!! what are your favourite movies? like actually good ones but also any trashy comfort movies? is IT (2017) one of them?

Hello!! IT (2017) IS ABSOLUTELY ONE OF THEM oh man, thank you for this, I love talking about movies!!!! This is possibly the most difficult question you could have asked me. Apologies for how absolutely off the rails this got, I just... love movies so much lmao

I’ve said this before, but opening night of IT ch1 was the best cinema experience I’ve ever had, I’m so glad I got to see it with a fully packed audience who were all laughing and screaming together the whole way through. I’m a huge fan of... everything ch1 was doing, the 80s nostalgia, the summer-coming-of-age themes, the solid ghost train funhouse JOY of the Pennywise performance and scares, the washed-out cinematography, the tiny background details to make everything that much more eerie, the kids’ ACTING?!

Like, a lot of the time I find child actors can be really awkward and stilted to watch, but I remember leaving the cinema really impressed by JDG and Sophia Lillis in particular. I liked that they were all allowed to be little shitheads with potty mouths, it felt like a callback to 80s movies like The Lost Boys or Stand By Me. The whole thing worked to make me really care about what happened to the kids (even if I do still have issues with how they handled Mike. I understand even ch1 had limitations with juggling so many characters, but still). I saw it another 2 times in the cinema and have rewatched it at least, I dunno, 7-10 more times since then?

Add to all of that the retroactive CANON R+E baby pining subplot? I just love it, as if that wasn’t obvious by now given my Whole Blog. It’s a really special movie to me!

Anyway!! Ok, the main handful of movies I rewatch all the fucking time are:

Back to the Future, The Lost Boys, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Jaws, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Breakfast Club, Ocean’s 11, POTC 1, The Dark Knight, Inception, Die Hard, LOTR trilogy, Snatch, The Nice Guys, Logan Lucky, Mad Max Fury Road, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, Billy Elliot, Dirty Dancing, Tomb Raider (2018)...

Those are the easily consumable ones that I’ve seen so many times I don’t really have to concentrate or think about them, but I really love them and unfortunately often KEEP rewatching them instead of new stuff. It would take too long to go into why I love all these movies so much because I could write the same amount as I already did for ITCH1, and everyone already knows why those movies are good, so, lol.

I think I’m gonna have to subdivide and categorise this whole post because there are too many separate criteria for... goOD MOVIES, AUUHH 😩

Okay so first off, HORROR MOVIES? I’m especially in love with Re-Animator (1985) and its sequel Bride of Re-Animator, they’re such good examples of camp and batshit 80s practical effects, and also EXTREMELY funny. I’m actually just gonna post my list of my fave horror movies that I do actually keep on my phone at all times lmao. These are in no particular order:

Wholeheartedly recommend every one of these. I’ve never been so scared in my life as I was watching Hereditary in the cinema, hoo boy. Mother! by Aronofsky is one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had (and I actually saw it on the same day I saw IT ch1 for the first time!! That was a fun day)

Psycho (1960) and The Fly from 1986 should also be on there but I couldn’t fit them in the screenshot.

I’m a HUGE fan of a ton of martial arts movies too, like Kung Fu Hustle, Shaolin Soccer, Ip Man, The Raid movies, John Wick 3 is my fave of the trilogy, Drive from 1997 with Mark Dacascos is incredible, SPL 2, Ong-Bak, Operation Condor, Project A, Iron Monkey, and Zatoichi (2003) are some favourites.

My favourite Tarantino is Reservoir Dogs, fave Coen brothers are Raising Arizona, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and O Brother Where Art Thou. Love some old-timey colour correction and weird offbeat dialogue. I also love Goodfellas!!! And Donnie Brasco! And The Firm, I’m so easy for any good crime/law/gangster/heist procedural like that, especially if they’re from the 80s or 90s in a super dated way.

Fave Disney movie is Tarzan, favourite Ghibli movies are Spirited Away and Lupin III. I remember watching Spirited Away during a thunderstorm one time and it being.... god! Transcendent! Favourite Pixar movie is The Incredibles (the first one. ALSO the documentary “The Pixar Story” is great and well worth a watch, it’s very comforting for some reason) and my favourite Dreamworks movies are HTTYD1 and Spirit: Stallion of the Cimmaron.

I tend to watch more anime movies than tv shows, so stuff like Akira, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Summer Wars, Journey to Agartha, and my ultimate fave anime is Sword of the Stranger (2008). The climactic fight in that movie is fucking stunning and should be counted in “bests fights” lists right alongside anything live action

Also if we’re talking animated movies another hearty favourite is Rango, and a Belgian stop-motion (which at one time I considered my favourite movie ever) called Panique Au Village (2009) which is one of the funniest movies ever made imo.

As for TRASHY movies, I’m not sure if that’s the right word for how I feel about these ones but.. dumb/silly/slightly guilty pleasure movies? Ones that I feel need some kind of justification lmfao

Troy - something u must know about me is that I’m a giant slut for the Assassin’s Creed franchise, so if a movie smashes historical and mythological nonsense together with fun costumes and sword fights, I’m gonna enjoy myself. Even if they should have made Achilles and Patroclus gay. Other movies in this vein are King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, and Immortals (2011)

Gods of Egypt - I know all the reasons this movie is whitewashed bullshit. But it was already bullshit with giant Anubis mecha and giant snakes and bad acting and ridiculous CGI and frankly I had a blast at the cinema (my friend who I forced to come with me did not have a blast. Sorry H***)

Avatar - yes, the one with the big blue people. This movie gets a lot of flack nowadays but I really do enjoy it just for the spectacle. The full CGI world technology was so new at the time and I love to wallow in the visuals and daydream about riding a cool dragon around in the jungle

George of the Jungle - I’ll defend this movie to the death ok this movie shaped me as a person, it is fucking hilarious and Brendan Fraser is the himbo to end all himbos. It’s perfect. The song Dela is perfect. I still want to write a reddie AU about it. It’s one of the best movies ever made and I’m not being ironic

Set It Up - I KNOW this is a dumb Netflix original romcom but consider this; it was funny and the leads had great chemistry. I got butterflies. I once watched it and then literally immediately set it back to the start so I could watch it again

The Brady Bunch Movie - when people talk about great satires or parodies you will see them bring up the same movies over and over again, Blazing Saddles, This Is Spinal Tap etc, but they never talk about The Brady Bunch Movie from 1995 for some reason, which they should. It is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen and every time i watch it somehow it gets funnier

Some more general favourites that I do still love but don’t rewatch as often, and don’t wanna go into more detail about are:

Moon (2009), Crna Mačka Beli Mačor, The Sixth Sense, Parasite, The Handmaiden, Tremors, Wet Hot American Summer, Tucker and Dale vs Evil, What We Do In The Shadows, Hunt For the Wilderpeople, The Secret of My Success (I love kitschy 80s movies, is that obvious by now), The Green Mile, When Harry Met Sally, Rear Window, The Odd Couple, Breaking Away, Pan’s Labyrinth, To Kill A Mockingbird, The Eagle, Gladiator, The Artist, The Extraordinary Adventures of Adèle Blanc-Sec, Call Me By Your Name, Master and Commander, Pacific Rim, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Legend (1985), Emma. (2020), Flash Gordon, Trolljegeren, Hross í Oss, Beverly Hills Cop, Coming to America, WarGames, District 9, Ajeossi (2010), Tracks (2013), Sightseers, Mud (2012), Pitch Black, Four Lions, Shaun of the Dead, Starship Troopers, The Truman Show, Withnail & I....... Jesus Christ ok I need to stop

NOTABLE EXTREME FAVOURITES that I didn’t include in the regular rewatch list because they’re too heavy/not as well known/require more attention.:

Thin Red Line (1998), Badlands (1973) both dir. Terrence Malick

Malick’s brand of dreamy impressionistic filmmaking is something I find really appealing, both of these movies are gorgeous and unusual and poignant and, in the case of Thin Red Line at least, have a lot of things to say about a lot of rough subjects. I don’t totally understand all those things sometimes, but a theme with a lot of my favourite movies is that I’ll be more likely to love something long-term if it raises unanswered questions, or is surreal/esoteric etc. Plus the cinematography is incredible, and I wish there was a way to get Jim Caviezel’s narration from The Thin Red Line as an audiobook because it’s very poetic and soothing.

Let the Bullets Fly (2010) dir. Jiang Wen

This movie is WILD, it’s so much fun. It’s sprawling and intricate and epic and smart and really fucking funny, it! Has! Everything! A gang of very tolerant outlaws!! Jiang Wen’s beautiful broad chest!!! Chow Yun Fat absolutely DECIMATING the scenery, and the two of them outsmarting each other in order to gain control of a small Chinese town!!! Plus it’s long, but it packs so much nonsense and intrigue that it goes by really fast. Wow what a flick

A Field in England (2013) dir. Ben Wheatley

I know I included this in my horror list but aaaaahhh ahhhh Wheatley is one of my favourite directors (he also made Sightseers, and is directing the Tomb Raider sequel which makes me absolutely rabid.) This is a surreal black-and-white psychological horror black comedy set in the English Civil War about some deserters who may or may not meet the Devil in a field. People eat mushrooms. It’s bonkers. I love being blasted in the face with imagery that I don’t understand

Mandy (2018) dir. Panos Cosmatos

Speaking of being blasted in the face!!!!! This movie... I saw it in the cinema and I can’t even begin to explain the experience, but I’ll try. My favourite review site described it like this:

“...somewhere between a prog album cover come to life and a metal album cover come to life, and subscribes to both genre's artistic tendency towards maximalism: what it ends up being is basically naught else but two glorious hours of being pounded by bold colors...”

So, prog and metal are my two favourite genres of music. This movie opens with the quote “When I die, bury me deep, lay two speakers at my feet, put some headphones on my head and rock and roll me when I'm dead.” and then a King Crimson song, it is SURREAL to the nth degree, it’s violent and bizarre and Nic Cage forges a giant silver axe to destroy demonic bikers and there is a CHAINSAW DUEL. A galaxy swirls above a quarry. Multiple animated horror nightmare sequences. At one point a man says “you exude a cosmic darkness” and releases a live tiger. At another point Cage says, in a digitally deepened voice, “The psychotic drowns where the mystic swims. You’re drowning. I’m swimming.” and I haven’t stopped thinking about it for two years

Paper Moon (1973) dir. Peter Bogdanovich

Really fantastic movie set in the Great Depression (and also in black & white) about a conman and a little kid who may or may not be his daughter, running cons across the Midwest. It’s beautifully shot, so sharp and sweet and the progression of their dynamic is really well done because they’re played by an IRL father and daughter. Tatum O’Neal was NINE YEARS OLD and she’s so amazing in this movie she’s actually the youngest person to win a competitive category Oscar. I keep trying to get people to watch this fbdjfjdbf it’s wonderful

Alpha (2018) dir. Albert Hughes

THIS MOVIE IS A VICTIM OF BAD MARKETING ok, the trailers made it look like some twee crappy sentimental Boy And His Dog Adventure, plus it had voiceovers in American-accented english? That’s a total disservice to one of the coolest things about this film; the fact that they got a linguist to construct an entirely original Neolithic language that all the characters speak for the entire runtime. And yes, it is eventually a Boy And His Wolf adventure, but it’s COOL and fairly brutal, and it has some really incredible cinematography. The landscapes are so strange and barren and alien, you really get the sense that this is an ancient world we no longer have any connection to. And it’s also about like, the birth of dog & human companionship sooo it’s perfect.

Free Solo (2018) dir. Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, Jimmy Chin

The Free Climbing Documentary. I loved climbing as a kid, I love outdoor sports, and I love movies that elicit a physical reaction in me, whether that’s horny, scared, real laughter, overwhelming shivers, or in the case of Free Solo - HORRIBLE SWEATING TENSION. Like, I knew about Alex Honnold beforehand because of this adventure film festival I go to every year and I followed him on IG so obviously I knew he lived, but the actual climb itself was torture. My hands sweat every time I see it!! It’s incredible, such a cool look into generally what the human body can do, and more specifically, why Honnold’s psychology and life means he’s so well suited to free soloing. It’s such an exercise in getting to know an individual and get invested in them, before they attempt something very potentially fatal.

Brokeback Mountain (2005) dir. Ang Lee

I can’t even talk about this. When I was around 13 I snuck downstairs to watch this on TV at 11pm in secret, and my life was forever changed. I wouldn’t be who I am if I hadn’t seen Brokeback at the age I did. I seriously can’t talk about this or I’ll write an even longer essay than this already is

God’s Own Country (2017) dir. Francis Lee

The antidote to Brokeback Mountain, I’m so glad I managed to see this one in the cinema too. It makes me cry every time, as someone who’s spent years working on a cold British farm with sheep it was very realistic, which is expected since Lee grew up on a farm in Yorkshire. I love that this movie isn’t really about being closeted, but about being so emotionally repressed and self-loathing that the main character finds it so hard to accept love. Or that he deserves to be loved. The cinnamontographies.... lordt... but also the intimacy and sex scenes are fucking searing wow who hasn’t seen this movie by now. 10 stars. 20 stars!!!

Tomboy (2011) dir. Céline Sciamma

I saw this years ago but I’ve never forgotten it, it cut so deep. It’s from the director of Portrait of a Lady on Fire and it’s about a gnc kid struggling with gender and misogyny and homophobia in a really raw, scrappy way, it reminded me very much of my own... childhood... ahh the central performance is amazing for such a young age. I haven’t seen Portrait yet but I feel like if you went nuts for that, you should definitely check this out, it’s lovely.

Donnie Darko (2001) dir. Richard Kelly

EVERY TIME I WATCH THIS MOVIE I UNDERSTAND LESS AND LESS and that’s what I love so much about it. I love surreal movies, I love time-fuckery and stuff about altered perception etc etc and Donnie Darko scratches all my itches. I wish I could find a way to figure out an IT AU for it, because I know it would work! Somehow! Plus it’s got the subdued 80s nostalgia and I found it at an age when I was really starting to explore movies and music and the soundtrack FUCKS.

Offside (2006) dir. Jafar Panahi

I wish more people knew about this!!! It’s an Iranian film about a disparate group of women and girls who are football fans and want to watch Iran’s qualifying match for the World Cup, but women aren’t allowed into the stadium, so they all get thrown into the Stadium Jail together? They don’t know each other beforehand, but it’s about their changing relationships with each other and the guards and just, their defiance alongside hearing the match from the outside and WOW it’s so lively. Great dialogue and very funny, and such a different kind of story from anything you usually see from Hollywood.

The Fall (2006) dir. Tarsem Singh

This movie... I guess it’s the ideal. This is the platonic ideal of a film for me, it has fantasy, magical realism, glorious visuals, amazing score and costumes and production design and a really interesting, heartbreaking relationship at the core of it. I don’t know why so many of my favourite films feature incredibly raw performances by child actors but this is another one, Catinca Untaru barely knew any English and improvised so much because of that, and it’s fascinating to watch! Also the dynamic with Lee Pace is one of my favourites, where a kid forms a friendship with a guardian figure who isn’t their parent, but the guardian grows to really care for them by the end. It’s like Paper Moon in that sense. What is there to even say about this movie, it’s pure magic joy tempered and countered by genuine gutwrenching emotional conflict in the real world, it’s also ABOUT old moviemaking, in a way, and it’s stunning to look at!

Mad Max Fury Road (2015) dir. George Miller

I know I included this in my “most rewatched” section but it deserves its own thing. We all know why this movie is fucking incredible. I remember clutching my armrests in the cinema and feeling like my skeleton was being blasted back into the seat behind me and tbh that is the high I’m constantly chasing when I go to see any movie. What a fucking gift this film is

Théo et Hugo dans le Même Bateau (2016) dir. Olivier Ducastel, Jacques Martineau

I only found this movie last year and it became an instant favourite. Initially I was just curious because I’d never seen a movie with unsimulated sex before, but it’s so much more than the 18 minute gay sex club orgy it opens with. No, not more than, AS WELL AS. The orgy is important because this movie is so candid and frank about sex and HIV treatment in the modern day, it was eye-opening. Another thing that really got me is that I’d never seen a real-time film before. It’s literally an hour and a half in the lives of these two men, their intense connection and conversation and conflict in the middle of the night in Paris, with some really nice night photography and just!!! Wow!!! AMAZING CHEMISTRY between the actors. This is such a gem if you’re comfortable with explicit sexual content.

Ok. This is already over 3k but film is obviously one of my ridiculous passions and I can and do talk about it for hours. I’ve been reading magazines about it for years, listening to podcasts and reading review blogs and recently, watching video essays on YouTube because the whole process is so interesting to me and I want to learn more!!

Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of valuing form over narrative. The idea that story can often come second to the deeper physical experience and emotional reaction that’s created by using ALL the elements of filmmaking and not just The Story, y’know? Whether that’s editing, shot composition, colour, the sound mix, the actors, how it should all be used to heighten the emotional state the script wants you to feel. And so, I think for a few years now this approach has been influencing the types of films I really, really love.

I think I love surreality and mind-bending magical realism in films specifically because the filmmakers have to use all those different tools to convey things that can be way too metaphysical for just... a script? I’m always chasing that physical response; if a movie can make me stop thinking “I wonder what it was like to set up that shot” and instead overwhelm that suspension of disbelief, if I can be terrified or woozy or crying for whatever reason, that’s what I’m looking for. That’s why I watch so many fuckin movies, and why I’ll always remember nights like seeing IT (2017) for giving me another favourite.

Thank you again for this question, I didn’t mean to go so overboard. Also there’s no way to do a readmore on tumblr mobile so apologies to anyone’s dashboard 😬

#long post #films #this is like bill hader being asked to pick his fave comedies and he gives a 4 page list #he has such good taste though ahhahbfhfhfhh lemme talk with him nonstop about movies while i ride him. thank you

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mooshfluff · 5 years ago

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My Smol Language!💬

(some of these I've developed with my CGs, some are pretty common!!)

Hewwo = Hello!

Nini = Goodnight!

I lubb chu! = I love you!

Ahh boo chu!!/ Aah booboo!! = I love you!

blah blah *raspberry*= I love you!

Coot = Cute

Num nums/ Nom noms, Nummies or Yummies = Food

Stuffie = Stuffed Animal

Binkies or Dummy = Pacifier

Sowwy = Sorry

Dink = Drink

Hungee = I'm hungry!

Gib baba = can I have a bottle please?

Dip or Dippie = Diaper

Potty!! = I have to go to the restroom!!!

*yawning* = obviously NOT tired

Sweepy = Sleepy

Nappie = Nap

thankies= thank you!

Chewiee!! = I want my special comfort teether or chew!

Wahhh = I'm upset about something!

nyah= i dont know what else to say...

Ahhhh!! = Give me attention!

Tention!!! = Give me attention!

Bubbie = I wan my Favorite stuffie

Mama/panda/stwawbewwy = names for my mommy

Teddy/DaeDae/dada = name for my daddy

Dwaw = I wanna draw!

Baff = bath time!!

Uppie! = Pick me up or hold me

Hold! = Cuddles... now!

I got an owie! = I got hurt!!

Bandie = Band-aid

May babble alot or make no sense!!

When nonverbal:

*touches ear with hand* = quiet please

*mouth with finger* = Nonverbal

*covers both ears with hands* = too loud or I'm overloaded

*holds out both hands* = cuddles

*touches belly* = hungry

*holds out bottle/sippie* = thirsty

*pokes or taps* = attention or hold me please...

*grabby hands* I want that!

Also uses sign language!

(may change over time and will be updated as my Smol Language grows!)

I encourage you to share yours here too! I want to see what your Smile Language is! If you have anything different you use or do, please let me know!!

Last updated: October 15, 2020

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dearoldtuxedo · 5 years ago

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Wet Dream

OOC: So, this inspiration came to me by a little grayface. Mostly because I was in a huge mood for furry smut anyways. NSFW under the cut. Italic font for (Dream) Drooper’s dialogue.

Here we are, in the privacy of my own bedroom, smooching up a slobbery storm with my lovely kitten, on the heart shaped bed. That's right. Who else than yours truly, Tux The Tuxedo, and Drooper of The Banana Splits? As I was sayin', we were smooching up a slobbery storm. My arms wrapped around his torso, with his legs around my waist. The kissed we shared was a little more messier than our usual make out sessions. Saliva was flying and dripping down. Our tongues were wrestling, and sometimes they'd tie into knots.

While we still continued to French each other, one of my hands reached down to lift up Drooper's tail, and the other gave that lion tush a good hard spank! Drooper stopped kissing to let out a yelp, followed by a light moan.

"Uhh- baby." "You like that, don't you?"

I continued to spank him around, but not hard enough. No, I gotta save my real strength for the best part to come. I spanked him, and spanked him, and spanked him. I spoke vulgarly, in a raspy tone, over his moans.

"You may be king of the beasts, but I'm king of the sheets. When I'm through with you, babe, you won't be able to walk for a month. You're gonna have to ask me to carry you places instead. Every time you try to sit down, you'll be thinking of me." "Tux, enough of the teasin' already! Mah body can't take anymore of this! Just please, sock it to me! Now!" "Oh, such an impatient kitten you are. But whatever you say."

I untied kitten's legs from around my waist, then set him down in front of me on his knees. With my razor sharp claws, I teared off my entire tuxedo in only a second. Despite Drooper's squinty eyes, I could tell he was bedazzled, either by my performance or my muscular built. Whichever it was, it sure made his erection grow. Speaking of which, he looked at mine; That big, thick, furless member with the two bells at the end. Kitten got close, and took it into his hands, also observing its beauty while gently stroking it. Then he said,

"My, my. Darlin', you as hard as steel. But, don't worry. Let ol' Drooper tenderize that meat for ya."

Without hesitation, he took my member into his mouth, and sucked away. Uhhhhhhhh, it felt so good. He was slurping that thing like he hasn't had a bite in a week. He- Ahhhhh, man, I could feel him deepthroat it. He moved in closer to get more of that delicious Tux-junior into his mouth, and the only way to do that was by swallowing it. I gripped his mane tightly as I moaned.

"Ohhhhhh, baby. Yeah, you got it. Right there. That's a good kitten. Uhhh-"

Fffffffffffuuuuuudge! That feels good! He's like a vampire! ...or a vacuum. It will only be a matter of time before he sucks me dry. Darn, I could feel myself starting to leak! I'm- Wait a minute. I don't plan on emptying myself in his stomach! At least not through that end. I separated him out of my mouth, and placed him upon my lap.

"Why'd you stop me?" "Because, kitten, the real fun is about to begin. In three..."

I parted his right leg.

"two..."

I licked at my fingers to lube them up.

"one."

There, I inserted my middle finger into his tight hole.

"OH! Tux, baby...!"

He seemed to like that. I added another finger in him. Would've inserted more, but two was my limit. And with my claws, it probably doubled the pleasure. I moved them in and out of his rectum, as he moaned in amusement.

"Mmmmm, honey, yeah, that feels niiiiiiiiice. Uhhhhhh, uhh, yes!"

He wrapped his arms around my neck as my digits penetrated him. Hehehe, I could feel my fingers get soaked in his juices. They were moist enough to move in further.

"Darlin', MMMMMmmmmm, please give me more!"

More?

"More, darlin'! I didn't come over here just for yer fingers! Let me feel you! All of you!"

All of me, huh? I withdrew my fingers, then put him onto the bed, laying him on his back. He smiled a wide grin, watching me spread his legs far apart. Then, I slammed myself inside of him.

"OHHHHHHH-"

I thrusted my member into that tight little hole of his, moving at a steady pace, but grinding at a force so hard. The impact of my strength caused the bed to rock back and forth. The feel of my member squeezed between his rectum, such a sensation to behold. He's so warm. I never wanna leave from him. With each erotic moan, I pushed myself in deeper. I grasped firmly onto his hips, and let my claws sink into his flesh. My face lowered down to his so that we'd touch noses.

"OHHHHHHohohhhhhh, GOODNESS! YES! UHHHHHH, UH... Oh Tux, yes!" “So, that feels good, kitten?" "Yessss! yessssss! Aww gosh, darlin'!" "Is that 'balls-deep' or what?" "UH-" "Take it all in, babe. Let me loosen that tight little cave of yours." "OHHHHH, DARRRRLIN'!"

The room was accompanied by three sounds: The rocking of the bed, the squishy padding noises, and Drooper's moans of rapture.

"Mmmmmmmm, harder darlin'!" "Harder? You want harder, kitten?" “UHHHHHHHH, YES! Harder, darlin'! HAR-DER!" "Beg the snow leopard! Beg him to tear that tunnel of love!" "AHHHH, PLEASE SCREW ME IN HARDER, DARLIN'! Oh yeah, LET ME HAVE IT!" "Harder?" "HARDER!!!"

I released my full strength, and pounded hard enough to send kitten screaming to the heavens, and his tail began to curl up. The bed eventually broke down, but that didn't stop me. I wasn't gonna stop until I reached that climax. Speaking of which...

"OH, TUX! Darlin'! That feels nice! Feels so good!" "I'm almost there, kitten!" "Yes, yes, yes, YESSSSS, UHHHHHHHHH!" "Gonna fill you up with that sweet, magical love juice!" "TUX, YES-" "FILL YOU UP WITH SO MUCH OF IT!"

But, just as I finally reached that orgy, an explosion occurred.

I shot up awake, heavily breathing. My body was hot all over, I was drenched in my own sweat, and I felt something sticky down in my pants. Boy, that was some dream. This was all that potty mouthed stranger's fault. They officially made this cat feel like a horn dog.

That dream was very intense. Too intense for me to handle. Also, very real, although I wasn't myself in that dream. No, this Tux was more crude and dominant, who treated dear Drooper like an object. Those type of men are what we like to call 'jerks.' I would never wanna generalize poor kitten like that, and to the extent of hurting him for my own entertainment, although he seemed to enjoy it. Well, at least Jerk Tux didn't swear once. I'll give him credit for that.

Drooper wasn't himself either. I know my kitten too well to be sure that he isn't THAT confident. He has always been bashful towards my romantic passings, even when we're alone together.

Back to the dream, I don't think I'm ready to face Drooper again tomorrow. I mean, I want to make love, but I'm also very nervous too. I've been a virgin for many, many decades, and I promised to give myself to the guy I can call "the one." Drooper is definitely "the one" for me, and my heart knows it. He's my Lovin' End. But still, it's been so long. What if I screw (no pun intended) the whole experience up, and end up hurting him badly? What if he's not into that type of intimacy? I would be fine, but my hormones will riot! What if he does want it, but I end up regretting it.

Phooey. I don't think I'll be going back to sleep any time soon. I buried myself under the sheets, and started to lightly gnaw on my own tail. It's the perfect substitution for sucking your thumb.

#The one who turned a banana cherry red [Tux]#Dear sweet kitten [Drooper]#Lover cats [Tux and Drooper]#Banana ‘n cream pie [NSFW]

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thingismyson · 6 years ago

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FNAF Fangames AU characters as Vine quotes

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Candy: Welcome to Bible study! We’re all children of Jesus!

Cindy: Dad look, it’s the good kush!

Chester: AHHHH STAHHP! I coulda dropped mah croissant!

Blank: Whats better than this? Guys being dudes.

Penguin: Zach stop... You’re gonna get in trouble!

Jerry: MOTHERTRUCKER DUDE!! THAT HURT LIKE A BUTTCHEEK ON A STICK!!

Oldey: It’s an avocado... thanks.

Rat: Hi welcome to chill’s!

Cat: Can I please get a waffle?

Vinnie: Oh hi, thanks for checking in I’m sTILL A PIECE OF GARBAGE!

Shadow: Aye you know this boys got his free taco-

Mary: This is the dollar store, how good can it be?

Marylin: CHRIS!! IS THAT A WEED?!

Mint: Look at all those chickens!

Questa: Hahaha I do that!

Lollipup: Road work ahead? Yeah. I sure hope it does!

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Flumpty: This is how I enter my house. WASSUP FUCKERS!!

Blam: Daddy?

Beaver: *Girl vapes* Wow

Owl: DON’T FUCK WITH ME!! I GOT THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE!!

Golden: What the fuck, Richard!

Grunkfuss: Fuck off Janet, I’m not going to your fucking baby shower!

Redman: I’ve always wanted to live in Windows Vista my whole life.

Champ: Ah fuck! I can’t believe you’ve done this!

Chump: My name is Micheal with a B, and I’ve been afraid of insects my entire life.

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Popgoes: I’ve never went to oovoo javer

Sara: Oh my god! I found my berries! Just kidding!

Saffron: Not to be racist or anything, but Asian people SSUUGGHHHHH-

Blake: I want a church girl, that goes to church! And reads her bible!

Stone: How’d you get these bumps? You got eggzma?

Black Rabbit: Yes, she is a bitch! B I, C T, H!

Simon: Add two shots of vodka.

Strings: This bitch empty! YEET!

Cyanide: So I’m sitting there, barbecue sauce on my titties!

Gemstone: What would you do if there was a child right in front of you?

Gravestone: Ms. Keisha, Ms. Keisha! Oh my fucking god she fucking dead.

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Jollie: GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING MONEY *Throws doll at the wall*

Tweetie: I’m about to say it. I don’t care that you broke your elbow!

Maxie: *Holds up nerf gun* I WON’T HESITATE BITCH!

Georgie: Oh my god they were roommates

Jolly: Bop it! SHHH! Twist it! NRRRR!

George: I sucked dick on accident!

Metallica: WAKE ME UP INSIDE

Freddi: Ahem! That is NOT correct!

Bunnie: Everyone please excuse my potty mouth. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

Bailarín: FRE SHAVOCADO!!

Foxi: Someone left an ice cube on the ground and it melted and now my sock is wet. Who the fuck wanna die?!

S.Tweetie: “Do you have school spirt?!” I have spirits

S.Maxie: No off topic questions. Because I don’t want to.

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Rachel: *Pours ‘Life’ cereal and gets lemons* Well when life gives ya lemons!

Doug: I SMELL LIKE BEEF!!

Bane: FUCK YA CHICKEN STRIPS!!

Pete: Who want lasagna-

Ray: I wanna be a cowboy, baby!

Thing: Hey me and my boys are going to see uncle Kracker-

Raven: THatS mY OpINoiN!

Markus: Whoever threw that paper, your mom’s a hoe!

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PN Mickey: I wanna be a yo-yo man!

PN Minnie: Countey Boy, I love you~

Oswald: YOU NEED JESUS!!

Acephalous: Wait whats that? Is it a butterfly? ...Its me.

Disembodied: A potato flew around my room before you came in-

Face: Two bros sitting in a hot tub! 5 feet apart cos that aren’t gay!

Suicide Mouse: Is there anything better than pussy? Yes, a really good book!

Undying: Theres only one thing worse than a rapist *Rips off paper* Boom.

God: You split lipstick in my valentino white bag?!

Henry: Hey I’m Jared and I’m 19, and I never fucking learned how to read!

Hourglass: That was legitness!

MickMick: ANNIE ARE YOU OKAY?! ARE YOU OKAY ANNIE?!

Willy: AA, AAA, AAAAAAA-

Jake: Hey my name is Trey, I have a basketball game tomorrow. I’m a point guard, I have a shoe game-

Lisa: What do you have? ‘A knife!’ NO!!

Greg: 4 Female ghostbusters? The feminists are taking over!

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beehivemind200 · 2 years ago

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Ashleeeeee chaaaaan I ask all of the t questions cause fucl it and don't worry I'm not some random stranger I'm just too shy to reveal who I am but we're friends- um sorryyy this is so awkward------- forgive me

Alrighty all 20? No problem no problem. And do not worry I have an idea as to who this is. TAKE NOTES PEOPLE CAISE IM ONLY SAYING THIS ONCE!! Now I'm gonna do this in little bursts to help me remember all the questions. I took screenshots of em so don't worry it'll be in order

1 Where am I most ticklish? Shoot honestly I don't know I've never gotten to figure that out but based off of where the phantom tickles go when teased or just when tickle is spoken in go with side and hips but hips more.

2 again never really been tickled I've mostly gotten little pokes and stuff like that but I got the idea that I enjoy it because if the joy it gave me and just the reaction of other based on my reactions if that makes any sense😅

3 what places do I like being tickled? Well I mostly just get little pokes on my side and sometimes back is say this spots

4 rough or playful tickles? Ooooh that's a hard one is say both as long as we are both having fun but I think my go to would be playful I like.... I'm not gonna continue that NEXT QUESTION!!

5 weirdest tickle spot? Frick I don't know??

6 like I already said it's the joy and the genuine happiness it brings me. I tend to mask a lot and just not show my true feeling cause I don't really know how? But tickling, teasing any part of it helps me feel my feeling in the moment and not feel unsafe. It's a comfort

7 what tools do I want to be rickled with? Hmmmmmmmmm well I don't think I'm feather sensitive so not feathers but I think just basic thinks like nails but I think markers and pens would work as well. Felt tip pens specifically I mean think about it! The ink is already cold witch just adds to the sensitivity and on top of that once it's dried the cleaning bit is just ahhhh! Like not sure what to use a soft rag or a clean sponge? I don't know but it's flustering thinking about it MOVING ON

8 favorite tickle memory? Definitely the one I posted recently about my friend scaring my and trying to grab my mask? Yeah that one!

9 can I tickle myself? Only slightly and in my stomach

10 do I enjoy bondage? Only very light pinning like have my arms held above my head that's the most I can handle😅 plus I still wanna be able to get the let back that part of the fun.

11 do I enjoy raspberries? Not sure but I like giving them. The nervousness and anticipation of the action is just *chefs kiss* amazing.

12 last time I was tickled? My last shift soooo the 23rd 👍

13 do I like tickling other people? OF CORSE! that's the best part in my opinion! Bringing joy to others and having them laugh or any reaction giving is just so lovely! And getting to tease people! Ahhhh it's so nice! There's is a specific person I love to tease and that's @kennabelee. They are just so cute and when teased they get all flustered and giggly. sure they have potty mouth when teased but eh still adorable AND THEY CAN FIGHT ME ON THIS THEY KNKW THEY WILL LOOSE!

14 what spot gets the best reaction out I my when tickled? Well damn ok. Umm mmmm I think hips? Suremive never been tickled there but whenever its mentioned I get all flustered and giggly the same thing happens when ever some one jumps at me or makes claw hands that's the spot I cover if not my sides so 👍yee NEEEXT

15 other than my sibling and 2 friends no

16 so I like tickle hugs? I've never gotten one which is sad but it sounds like a really fun idea mixing 2 of the best thing.? Count👏 me👏 in👏 GIMMIE

17 I'm not typing it the whole thing but if go with the 1st one. I'd rather giggle softly than laugh loud I'm not the biggest fan of my voice 💫surprise 💫 so if rather be tickled where my laughter is quite also I feel like my laugh is annoying since its all squeaky.

18 2 peeps @trashyswitch and @kennabelee I feel like we are all evenly matched so I can fight back but they are both equally fun to hang out with soooooo yee💙💙

19 sure! As long as its like 2 or 3 people anymore and if bee overwhelmed hot if its 4 people and one is just teasing? We cool 😎

20 do I wanna be rickled right now? Well seeing how its 3 34 in the morning? Kinda I had a bad day so it be nice but you know its 3 34 in the morning sooooooooo

And that's all of em peace out✌️

#ash answers #tickle community #thank you for the ask!#lovely anon #well i'm blushing now nice #im not flustered your flustered

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anime-dub-transcripts · 3 years ago

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Hetalia: World Series Episode #11 Transcript

This episode has China counterfeiting, Romano's strategy for fighting Britain, Italy and Romano hating British food, and Japan becoming Italy.

Japan: Oh no. I am pleased that our products are selling well, but manufacturing can’t keep up with demand. What do I do?

China: JAPAN! Why don’t you let me help you? I can make your products, but instead of telling people they’re mine, I pretend they’re yours and the customers will never find out.

Japan: Augh…

China: Augh!

Japan: How many times have I told you that counterfeiting is no way to build an economy? And blah blah blah blah blah blah…

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Romano: Okay, dum dum, listen. I’ll teach you a surefire strategy for fighting that Britain.

Italy: Hey, thanks, bro!

Romano: It’s very simple. When you meet the enemy, just show him you don’t want any bloodshed. That way if he shoots you, everyone will think he’s the bad guy, euh? And that’s all I know.

(Italy: Ahhhh…uohhh…)

{Caption: British Soldier}

Romano: Please don’t bazooka my face! I’ll surrender! I’m so sorry!

Italy: Ahuh…Romano, what’s this? You think I could borrow it?

Romano: Huh? Uh…that’s a bus.

Italian soldier: The British troops are advancing!

Italy: ROMANOOOOOO!

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Romano: Hetalia!

{Caption: Hetalia}

China: Japan gave me this precious little stuffed pussycat toy kitty! It’s so fluffy!

{Caption: China’s Boss}

China’s boss: Hey, doesn’t that cat’s face look a little freaking goofy to you?

China: Uhoh? Is there some portent of evil in its eyes, O great one?

China’s boss: Woahhhhhhh…

China: Ehan…ehan…

China’s boss: Whateves, broseph; cat just need mouth.

Cat: Love me?

China: AAH! AAH! You messed up!

China’s boss: You realize I am dragon, don’t you? Stuffed kitty no hurt me.

(China: AAH! AAH! AAH! AAH!)

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China: Hetalia!

{Caption: Hetalia}

Italy: Aahuh! Oh, hi. That’s strange; how did you get caught before me?

Romano: SHUT YOUR FACE! THIS WHOLE DISASTER IS YOUR DAMN FAULT, JERK!

Britain: You stow that potty talk this instant!

Romano: AAAAAAHHH! I’m really sorry, Britain, sir!

Italy: Sir?

Romano: He’s the one with the potty mouth, he’s Italian! I promise I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but please stop trying to break our spirits with your boiled beef.

Italy: I’ve had enough of this!

(Romano: I’m really sorry, so please don’t hurt me anymore!)

Italy: Why don’t you feed your blood pudding to me?

(Romano: I’ll do anything, I tell you!)

Romano: Don’t listen to him.

Britain: Yes, um, today I was going to serve fish and chips though.

Narrator: It’s rumored when British soldiers became the prisoners of Italian troops, they didn’t want to leave because the food was so much better.

Britain: Hello, friend. I don’t suppose you’d consider lending me your chef for a bit.

France: I wouldn’t even leave you the man who makes our dog food!

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Britain: Hetalia!

{Caption: Hetalia}

Italy: GERMANYYYY!

Germany: Hm?

Italy: Japan said that he wants to stay with me for a few days to do some sightseeing!

Germany: Oh? I didn’t realize you had an interest in being a tourist.

Japan: I love to take my camera everywhere I go, and because of my shortness, it allows me to see higher in case I want to take pictures of women and invent a wacky game show.

{Caption: Impatient}

Germany: Stop that. Stereotypes are for brainless dummkopfs.

(Dummkopfs: Idiots/Fools → German)

Italy: He’s right, but we better get outta here ‘cause Godzilla’s coming! Come on, run!

Japan: Gojira?!

(Gojira?!: Godzilla?! → Japanese)

Japan: Mr. Germany, thank you. Where did you see him? Was he big?

Germany: Well, I hope Japan doesn’t have too horrible of a time with that buffoon. Hm.

{Caption: A few days later…}

Italy: Hey, Germany! Japan and I are back from our little vacation!

Germany: Hm? That’s good. I hope Italy’s culture wasn’t too offensive. Now---uah!

{Caption: Japaaaaaan}

Japan: So good! The pizza was magnifico!

(Magnifico!: Magnificent! → Italian)

Japan: And the women were so pretty it made my heart yay!

Germany: Auhhhh…

(Japan: Yummy!)

Germany: HEY! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU PUT THE REAL JAPAN?!

(Italy: AAAAAHHHH!)

Italy: That’s him, I swear! We just went sightseeing and ate together like we would normally do!

Germany: THEN WHAT MADE HIM BECOME SO FREAKY?!

Japan: Pastaaaaaaa!

{Caption #1: Italians are infectious!}

{Caption #2: Or rather, it’s just that Japanese are easily influenced…}

{Caption #3: But Germans are Germans no matter where they go}

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Italy: Japan, your soup is cool! It looks like it was made from outer space things!

Japan: Yes, that’s quite close. Ugh, that’s echizen jellyfish.

China: You can’t tell the Western world all our food secret!

Italy: What are all of these white things in this red jelly brick thingy?

Japan: Oh…

China: If you tell him truth, I will never forgive you.

{Caption: To be continued}

#anime #anime transcripts #anime dub transcripts #hetalia #hetalia dub transcripts

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makelittlemelt · 5 years ago

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Phrases that will Make a Little Melt

“Can I color with you?”

“Pose pretty for me.”

“Good boy” (particularly effective to whisper it into his ear and play with his hair as he cums)

Congratulate him on incredibly simple adult tasks. e.g. “You got the fork. I’m so proud of you!”

“Say ‘ahhhh’…baby bunz” before putting pacifier in mouth.

Make sure he’s drinking. “Have you been sipping your bottle? Make sure to keep both hands on that drink so you don’t spill.”

“You’re too little for that.”

“No big boy pants. I think today will be a no potty privileges day for you little mister.”

“Go put on a diaper. I don’t trust you to keep this couch dry.”

“Did someone wet?” (ideally with a front diaper squeeze or check between the legbands)

Keep an eye out and catch him touching his own diaper. Follow with “Uh-uh baby. Stop toying around. If you need an adjustment, let mommy help.”

Before a grocery store run -“Where do you think you’re going little one? Come here. I can’t let you go get groceries without a diaper change. Wouldn’t want you to leak while you’re out playing store for me.”

“Who stole all your stars?!” (or paw prints - some of my diapers have a fade when wet design)

“Hmm, you’re awfully quiet right now baby. Why don’t you get that padded tush over here? My senses tell me that you’re about to get into mischief.”

“I think we’re going to do double diapers for nap time, you’ve had a lot of juice this morning.” Followed by layering another diaper on top of his current.

“It’s a good thing we put that stuffer in your diaper baby, you definitely would have leaked by now.” (If using a stuffer - ask me what it is and I’ll show you.)

When in adult clothes: “You’re so adorable when you play pretend. Let’s get you into something more age appropriate.”

Ask me to get you a drink/refill. As I head to the kitchen - “Look at that waddle!”

“I think you need some tummy time little one. Lay down and let me get a good view of that cute diapered bottom.”

“You make it so obvious that you love your diapers baby, I can see how excited you get every time I change you. Maybe if you’re a good boy/girl we can do something about that before bedtime.”

“Oopsie! Let’s get you cleaned up so you can get back to toddling.”

“If you behave I’ll get out the magic wand for us to use before bedtime baby, but the diaper stays on. You can just finish in your pants like a good little one.”

“Why don’t you color me a picture, I know you love coloring because you don’t even realize when you wet yourself when you’re making a pretty picture.”

“Here’s your bottle, baby… lay in my lap, you’re too little to drink it yourself. We don’t want it to spill on your clothes, do we? Let me hold it for you. Just put your hands on your tummy and relax.”

“Ugh. Did someone piddle in that pull-up again? It’s okay bunz. You’re too little to know better.”

“You know the rules; you hold my hand when we’re out. You’re too little to wander around by yourself. You stay by my side at all times. Or do I need to put you in a stroller?”

When they help out around the house or with errands (often accompanied by a hug/back rub/kiss on forehead): “Thank you! You’re such a good helper!”

When they are feeling ‘frisky’ in little space, or if it’s just a part of your dynamic: “Aww, is baby getting excited? I see that little bulge. Someone needs mommy’s attention!”

When talking back. “It sure sounds to me like you’re saying ‘I need a spanking', little mister!”

“It sure looks like somebody needs mommy’s help. Can you say it for me? Use your big-boy words!”

If little says they’re going to do something. “It sure sounds like you want to ask my permission…Say, ‘Please momma’. I want to hear you ask nicely.”

“Aww, it’s like you think you’re in charge.”

“That wasn’t a question, little one. That was an instruction. Do I need to use my serious Mommy voice? Hmm?”

Ask me when my pull-ups got wet and why didn’t I say anything to you.

Tell me that I must be a very little boy indeed to still need diapers at my age.

Tease me about my diapers getting wet during the night while you tape me into them before bed.

Tell me that if I’m a good boy tonight and wet my diapers, maybe you’ll give me an extra special change only for really good boys in the morning.

“No taking that diaper off til I change you little mister.”

“Do you like it when mommy tells you what to do? Is that what you want?”

“Aww was that butt wiggle for me? Does someone want me to play with his bottom?”

“Because I said so”

“Show me how much you love me baby”

“Oh you want to be sassy? There’s goes your opportunity for a change. That’s another hour for you. I don’t care if you leak.”

“If you don’t want to listen, we can (punishment here). Then we will see how much you feel like being bratty, hm?”

“Are you trying to hide that you’re wet? Oh silly, boy. Are you embarrassed? I know you fucking love it.”

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evelyntransitions-blog · 7 years ago

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Day 30 Sleepy Ebi

So yesterday was a trainwreck. I was extremely tired from running around so much on thanksgiving and my lack of sleep from the night before (Thought I had to wake up early to go to my aunts). I went to bed around 1:30am and had to wake up at 3:00am to get ready for work, and as an added bonus I forgot to take my medication before bed. What’s even better is that the medicine causes fatigue, dizziness and drowsiness so it must be taken before bed. One of the pills happens to be for treating my anxiety (though it’s typical use is to treat bi-polar and seizures which I have neither of. Just moodiness and shakes from anxiety). So I have this horrible nightmare that a ghost girl slams my door open and like the Mind Flayer from strange things turns into a sentient virus fog and shovels itself into my mouth. I imagined Jesus in my room in the dream and he pulled it out luckily but it was scary as fuck, because the ghost abomination disappeared through the wall at the end of my dream, just like in Stranger Things. So I wake up as this happens, not having taken my anxiety pills and feeling like the ghost is still in the house. To add insult to injury I didn’t remember that I forgot to take my anxiety pills. When I go to take a shower i’m in deep shit between glancing at the dark perliless hallway, only dimly lit by my roomates nightlate (which she keeps in the hallway to not stumble around in the dark) and this big empty void ready to suck out my soul. I dash into the bathroom and close the door behind me, making sure to lock it and then double check that I locked it. I get butt naked and head into the shower but all I can see out of the corner of my eye is the fucking door. I’m ready for that door to burst open and blam! GHOST ABOMINATION READY TO TAKE OVER MY BODY WAHAHHHHHH AHHHH. Nope. I’m able to take a paranoid shower. I have to poop right after, so now i’m on the potty, fuggin’ door still looking at me while the roaring sound of the vents blowing out air, along with the steam from the shower makes the room seem like some type of fog chamber. It’s like i’m silent hill on crack. I promptly wipe my ass, wash my hands and brush my teeth, all the while feeling like there’s something behind me ready to snatch me up and drag me down to hell, which is extremely doltish considering I can see behind me just fine thanks to the mirror. At this point it hits me “I didn’t take my fucking medicine” I think to myself. This is a blessing, because that means it’s more than likely my anxiety fucking with him. Unfortunately this is also a curse, because now I have to take medicine that makes me God awful tired. So I take the pills and rush to work, and thank heavens I wasn’t ready to fall asleep on the road.

Boy when the medicine kicked in let me tell you, it was bigger nightmare than any imaginary ghost monster. It’s about 7am and the tired just hits me and it doesn’t stop. I never thought it possible to fall asleep standing up but I was getting close. So i’m in front of my register checking people out as I phase between conscious and semi conscious. Not just like “extremely tired” oh no, this is worse. I’m slipping between falling into a dream, and still being awake. I’m talking with my eyes closed about 50% of the time, and forcing myself not to lean on anything and keep my mouth moving before the sandman pets my head right before seducing me and making me bite the damn pillow. I’m trying to make this look as natural as possible, as I memorize the movements of the managers best I can, and where they are in the store at what point in time, which helps me keep my brain racing. Racey brain, less chance of falling asleep, if I still have a dose of that anxiety now is the time. Anxiety take the wheel, I don’t want to cruize into the big fat ditch of getting fired. I’m trying to make this look as natural as possible but most customers don’t by it. Immediately everyone becomes Mona from Persona 5. I get a lot of “You look like you’re really tired and “When are you getting out of here; you should get some sleep.” I just kinda nod and close my eyes to answer them. Eventually break time comes and though as far as I remember from getting the handbook when I first started working here, falling asleep at work gets you immediately fired. I didn’t know if that counted on breaks, but I was willing to take the risk. I set a few alarms on my phone, scooched down some paper towels over the ganky ass, crumb crustey, mystery stained break room table I was sitting at and passed out. I got lucky and was able to wake up in time thanks to my alarms. I get off break and the rest of the day is half way decent in terms of tired. I’m still beyond exhausted for the whole time. When I left the store though, turns out I feel fine for some reason. I think this is what they call a “Second Wind.” I used it up to head to Gamestop and buy some Christmas gifts for some friends and an Itunes gift card to buy stuff on animal crossing. I was thinking about getting Pokemon but it was out of my budget and wolfenstine was 67% off, but I was worried that i’d over play it and run up the electric bill. So I settled with what I had, paid and left. When I got home I left a nice note to my roommate explaining that I was happy she accepted me as female, and trusted me to share an apartment with her despite my gonads. That on top of helping me get some space from my parents. I added her early Christmas gift to this. When she got home she was really happy with the note and the gift, though the Vynal I got her was one she already had. I think she was trying to thank me, or making me feel more like a normal girl, because she asked me if I wanted to help her pick out an outfit. She was going out with a friend of hers, but didn’t know to what degree, this making the outfit creating process difficult. I let her try on one pair of my pants, because they went with a jacket she had, but the pants were to big around the ankles so that outfit didn’t work so well. I forgot what she decided on, but i’m sure it was cute. I don’t even know if I remember seeing it. I ate thanksgiving leftovers soon after, did some laundry, set some alarms and passed out. Really early too probably around 6pm. I was smart this time and set one of the alarms for a good time to take my medicine in the middle of the night and went back to bed afterwards. Though that didn’t circumvent the stupid that happened today/this morning.

#evelyntransitions #trans #transgender #transition

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iamsoneurotic · 8 years ago

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Kids are gross.

I figure I’m long overdue for an update.

I don’t even know where to begin. There’s so much changing about these boys that it’s almost not worth trying to list. Short version: I have a 2 year old, a 4 year old and a world full of stress!

Let’s begin with the little bug, Noli. He’s gone through phases – He loved Curious George, he loved Thomas the Train… But oh me oh my, no love compares to his obsession with Spider-Man! I wish I could pinpoint the moment it happened. I want to say in an effort to silence one of his Cthulhu-level tantrums we shoved an iPad in his face and YouTubed Spider-Man footage from the movies. Love at first site. Honestly, who can know these things though. My memory has always sucked and poor Rachael is reaching record-breaking levels of mom-brain. These dang kids have obliterated her ability to perform simple brain functions like string a series of words together to complete a sentence. Sometimes I hear her mumbling “Abort, Retry, Fail?” in her sleep. I wonder if she can be restored to factory settings…

So as I said, Noli is obsessed with Spider-Man. He wears a Spider-Man cape, he has two Spider-Man stuffed dolls (a large one named Spider-Daddy and a small one named Spider-Baby) and he has a pair of red & blue shoes which are simply called Spider-Shoes. He pretends to shoot webs from his hands as well, something I’m rather proud to have taught him because while it appeared I was teaching him a cool superhero thing, I was secretly just teaching him to throw up the horns and rock n’ roll.

Milo does it too – because, as brothers do, they mimic everything the other does… and they do this to incredibly annoying extremes. They were in the back seat one day and per usual Noli began ‘shooting his webs’ at Milo, so Milo did it back to him. Rach and I thought it was cute until we realized it was an all out war in the backseat and these two were angrily trying to shoot each other TO DEATH with their imaginary webbing! So within a matter of minutes I realized I had reached that point in life where I spend my car rides yelling at children to stop shooting imaginary webs at each other. This is actually a thing I have to enforce now. “If you shoot your brother with webs again, you’re getting a spank!”

Yes, we spank. I had always been iffy about writing anything about it for fear that some obnoxious crunchy parent would start bombarding my email with complaints of child abuse, but then I realized that A.) I don’t care, and B.) Even if I did care, I highly doubt more than 3 people read this. Whatever, I live in Texas now – At any given time I’ve got about 4 or 5 other parents within shouting distance willing to spank my kids for me if my hands are full. God’s country, baby!

One night when I was getting Noli ready for bed, he grabbed the ‘spanking spoon’ which was within his reach, patted himself on the butt and said “Obey daddy?”… It was funny until I thought about how horrible that would look if he ever did that in public. There’s a lot of things you have to worry about when you’re in public. It used to be the thing you feared most was your child crying or making a scene - that’s all but expected now, but eventually your kids start saying things that aren’t fit for public areas. It’s not even things they’re learning from listening to me – and believe me, there’s a plethora of highly inappropriate words and phrases they should have picked up from listening to me empty their training potties, but the things they say they just figured out by putting sounds together randomly on their own. Noli, for instance (actually all of these things are Noli. Milo is a grammatical angel), started saying “Pop-a-tit”. Nobody knows what it means, nobody knows where it came from, nobody even knows if he knows what he’s saying. It just came to be one day.

The worst is when my mother asked him “Pappa what?”, and he just bluntly answered “Tit!”... Sorry, mom.

Luckily he says that one less frequently, but it just got replaced with something of equal socially unacceptable value: “Poop-shoot toot”. Now, I know where he learned poop and I know where he learned toot… But where in God’s green earth did he learn to string together Poop-shoot?? It doesn’t help that I laugh every time he does it. It’s a dad’s job to delight in his child’s potty mouth when mom isn’t looking.

Whatever though, talking about poop is as common as breathing air in my house. Milo’s almost fully potty trained now and I find myself longing for the days of diapers. When I was little, I’d yell “I’m all done!” when it was time for my tooshie to be cleansed of its own aftermath. Milo, being the ever so elegant child he is, just yells “HEY! WIPE MY BUTT!” ... Again, I find myself realizing my life’s situation as I reply without hesitation, “Hey, it’s wipe my butt PLEASE.”

I don’t even know why I bother trying to teach these kids manners - they’re animals. Children are filthy, disgusting animals. They delight in being gross. They love picking their nose, eating their nails and spitting. Here’s the thing, I can handle a poop, I can handle spit up, I can handle vomit… I can handle a lot of things. But when it involves the nose or the mouth, I immediately start dry-heaving. Even as I’m writing this I’m barely keeping it together so I can just get through this wretched paragraph.

Milo’s favorite place to do gross things is during his soccer games. He knows I’m rendered powerless to do anything about it. I can’t run onto the field and scold him, and there’s just something about being that one parent screaming from the sidelines “STOP EATING YOUR BOOGERS AND CHASE THE BALL!” that makes me uneasy… So I just have to sit there and pretend he’s not my kid until the quarter is over and I can chew him out while he’s on the bench. One time, after he finished doing his absolute worst coal-mining to his left nostril, he looked me in the eye and grabbed another kid’s hand with what I could only imagine to be a finger so moist it would make a sponge swoon. I just stood there, helplessly giving him the meanest dad-eye I could conjure up… But it was ineffective. He knew what he was doing and he knew there was nothing I could do about it. I’m pretty sure the other kid got ebola and died that evening.

Needless to say the “Obey Daddy” spoon came out that afternoon.

In all seriousness though, when he wasn’t infesting other kids with his little kid germs, he did an amazing job playing Soccer. He was the smallest kid on his team but he played his little heart out… And looked adorable doing it. I’ve never been much of a sports guy, but I got really into it when he played. I had to refrain from yelling things like “KILL HIM! KILL HIM, MILO!!” and “KICK HER IN THE SHINS!!!” … It was a co-ed league. And there absolutely was this little brat ginger girl on the other team that 100% needed a good kick in the shin from a 4-year-old. Sweep the leg, son.

I kid, I don’t encourage violence from my children… They learn it all on their own. Noli has grown into quite the bruiser, which is awful timing considering he’s right at the peak of his terrible 2’s. Sure he’s still a cuddle-bug, and adorable, and squishy and the sweetest little thing on the planet, but he also happens to be a little ball of pent up Italian rage. My contribution to the family. His favorite phrases as of late are “No”, “I don’t want to”, “Go away” and “AHHHH!!!!”. Oh, and “Spider-Man”. Though he pronounces it “Cider-Man”.

He sadly inherited my clumsiness as well. He trips and falls while laying down. It’s one of those weird parenting evolutions that happens from first kid to second. The first child falls and you run to him and cuddle him and buy him chocolate and weep because you feel his pain. With the second kid, you find yourself resisting the urge to spank him when he trips on his feet for the hundredth time that morning and lands on his face. “Omg, kid, if you’re going to bleed, do it on the tile, not the carpet!”

…

Who am I kidding, our carpet is a lost cause. I don’t even care if they eat food off of it anymore, it’s their own germs they’re eating at this point.

Speaking of germs, I’m glad the school year is over because I’m tired of these little petri dishes bringing home colds from the other kids. What’s worse is they’re probably doing something really gross to get those germs from the other kids. Why are kids so gross! Stop that!

Besides whatever gross activities they’re engaging in with the other children, both Milo and Noli are great at school-related things. Like Math. Noli’s report card had a section for “Counts to 10” and the “10″ was scribbled out and replaced with a “20”... Because my 2 year old is mad smart just like his older brother. Milo likes to routinely count to a hundred by 1’s, 2’s, 5’s and 10’s. For a brief moment I heard him counting by 6’s, but he saw that I took notice and started picking his nose and blowing raspberries. My boys love fart noises. Noli likes to run up to me, turn his butt in my direction and then exclaim “I poop on you!” and proceed to make all kinds of raspberry noises while shaking his chunky little butt all over my leg. It’s adorable in a shameful kind of way. I enable it though because I do the same thing to his mother.

He’s a funny kid. When he’s not running around singing the Spider-Man song (which he sings: “Cider-Man, Cider-Man, I never Cider-can”), he’s picking up fake phones and pretending to call my brother to order milkshakes. Good lord the boy loves vanilla milkshakes - or as he calls it “Amilla Milshaysh”. His head almost exploded one day when we had my brother buy a milkshake and wait outside the door. We had Noli call him on his cell phone and ask him to bring a milkshake, and when he asked, my brother busted open the door like Commando Santa Clause and granted his wish. Now whenever the doorbell rings, he thinks my brother is at the door with sugary beverages. We teach our kids disappointment at an early age.

We have to roll his window up when we’re at the Starbucks Drive-Thru now because he keeps trying to ask for vanilla milkshakes while we’re trying to order.

Anyway, this barely scratched the surface of how much they’ve changed, but you get the gist: Boogers, Spider-Man, Milkshakes.

Animals, ~ Mark

#parenting #fatherhood #dad #daddyblog #toddler #children #spiderman #humor #parenthood

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