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billthedrake · 30 days

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CAMP DADDY

"You got this, Carter," I heard from behind me. It was Dave, the guy at the camp I'd bonded with the most.

I wasn't sure I had it. Over the last week we'd done a lot of challenging stuff... long hikes, swimming races, rock climbing, you name it. But the spelunking was freaking me out a little, between the darkness and the tight spaces. I didn't realize I had claustrophobia, but I guess I did. I was hyperventilating.

"Come on, relax, bro," my buddy said. "One inch at a time. I'm right behind ya, man."

I pushed through. And once I cleared into a bigger part of the cave, I saw more headlamps ahead. I unclenched my held breath.

***

I'd been a real fuck up of a teenager. That's why I was here at this Outward Bound camp. Strike one was shoplifting and getting caught for it. Strike two was yelling at my dad and calling him a piece of shit, on his birthday no less. Strike three was the ketamine use. The next weekend Dad was shipping me off to this godforsaken place in the woods upstate. He wasn't going to pay for baseball, college, or my car if I didn't go. So I did.

The first couple of days I gave a bunch of lip to the counselors. I couldn't stand their fake-cheery demeanor or their 12-step BS. "Stay strong," we had to say at the end of each "huddle" meeting. Like it was fucking church.

But I was smart, smart enough how to play this. I knew I should just lay low, go along with it enough. It was just three weeks.

It helped that I bonded with Dave the first day. He was another baseball jock and cynical too. We made fun of the Sunday School teacher vibe of the lead counselor Mr. Connell. Only at Outward bound we were supposed to call the counselors by first name.

Dave had been there a week. "At least all the physical stuff is good exercise," he said. "I'm actually getting in really great shape for next season."

It was true. There was a gym, too, in the common room of the main cabin basement. Kind of a basic barbells and benches kind of gym but a lot of us jocks would work out together, until I got annoyed by them too. Other than Dave, they all bought into the 12 step crap.

I started talking to Pete, a punk guy with a shaved head and a permanent snarl on his face. He was cool. He wasn't just cynical, he'd talk back to the counselors. But one day he was just gone. No Pete.

***

Maybe unconsciously I was trying to get Pete's fate. Get out of this fucking place. I thought three weeks would go fast, but a week and a half had drained me. I mouthed off to Mr. Connell. Sorry, to "Mike." He smiled in that fakey way and tried to be zen about it. But I was getting to him. After dinner I sulked on my own. I'd started to realize Dave was in on it. Playing normal to get my confidence and win me over to the Program.

I was wallowing in self-pity sure, because I knew I was crushed out on Dave. I'd hidden the gay thing pretty well my last few years, but now I didn't have booze or pot or drugs to push my feelings down. Maybe that's why I was acting out, I don't know. My body was just a mess of hormones and my brain a bunch of conflicted thoughts.

***

I woke up in a room that was identical to the two-bed cabin I'd been sleeping in with another guy Zach. Only it wasn't the same room and there was no Zach. On the other full bed a man sat reading a book, kind of a big beefy-but trim older man, dressed in joggers and a zip-up athletic top that clung to his thick muscle. I thought it was a sex dream, but the second I realized it was real I jolted awake, sitting up straight in my small bed.

"Wait, who are you?" I blurted out. This man wasn't one of the counselors. He was older, with salt-and-pepper hair trimmed short. Probably in his early 50s.

Patiently the man set down his book. He didn't have that fakey-nice look but was on the sterner side of normal. "You can call me Daddy," he said. He had a smooth tenor voice.

This was weirder than a dream. "What the fuck?!" I yelled. "I'm not fucking calling you Daddy. Where's Zach? Where are the other guys?"

He shrugged. "You didn't like the other guys," Daddy explained. "We had to change plans."

I was freaking out now. More than in that dark cave. I jolted up and ran to the door. This cabin wasn't in a big compound but was attached to a single small room with a window overlooking the mountains. I looked back on the bed. The man was surprisingly calm, like he expected my reaction, or worse. That was one thing that made me try to check my emotion, to use my head. I knew how these fuckers worked.

"This is kidnapping," I said. I was realizing I must have been drugged to be moved entirely to this new place.

Daddy shook his head. "Fraid not. And we suggested to your father that we extend your stay here to two months. He agreed it's needed. We'll add more if takes all summer.

I broke down. Tears welled up in my eyes. I wasn't going to let this asshole see me cry, and yet I already was. Defeated, I sat on the bed facing away from him.

"It's OK," he said, with terse reassurance. "It's tough here. I'll make breakfast for when you're ready."

***

I gave him the silent treatment. Unlike the Outward Bound counselors he didn't try to make me talk. Maybe he was giving me the silent treatment too, maybe he realized a one-way conversation was useless.

I got dressed and while Daddy was showering up, I stepped out of the small cabin. There was a trail, and it had to lead somewhere. I took one look back into the cabin, then took off.

Fortunately the trail split a few times so if Daddy followed me he'd have a hard time catching up. I don't know why I hadn't thought of escaping before.

I got lost. Real fucking lost. The deeper into the woods I got, the less sense I had of where to go. The day went on. I got hungry. I kept walking. I expected to hear a highway or cars or people or some sign of civilization. Nothing.

I was freaking out. I stopped and sat on a tree trunk. Crying. There was no Dave urging me on. No "stay strong" mantra. No other guys. It was just me, fucking up again. My stomach rumbled, and I felt thirsty. It was getting dusk. I couldn't believe I'd have to sleep out here, but my big fear was wondering if I'd ever get back.

I heard rustling on the trail. Then saw a flashlight and the dark imposing figure of a 6'4" man coming my way. It was Daddy.

"Here," he said, offering me a sandwich and water. "Have this, then we'll head back."

I was too grateful and relieved to mouth off. But on our walk back I had a realization. "You knew I was here," I said.

"Yes," Daddy replied. They probably had a tracking chip in my clothes somehow.

"And you made me wait here alone."

"Yes," he admitted. "You had to learn the hard way, Carter." There was an undercurrent of empathy to his voice.

***

It took me a couple of days, but I opened up. And once I started talking, you couldn't shut me up, it felt like. I talked about my problems, and Daddy listened. It was like a therapy session and a buddy conversation, from breakfast till night.

Daddy was the first man I told I was gay. We were sitting on the Adirondack chairs outside, enjoying the view of the mountains and the sunset and I just went there. I confessed my problems dating girls and the times I got erection problems during sex.

"I told them I was drunk, but I wasn't," I said.

"I'd have done the same," Daddy said in his mellow voice.

That caught me off guard. I tried to read him, but he was still an enigma to me. A flash of me wondered if he was into men. The dude was jacked for his age, and I got a flash of excitement imagining him having sex.

Daddy was counselor, captor, friend, and father figure rolled into one. "What's your deal, man?" I asked. Not hostile like before, but probing. "Here I am spilling my guts out and I don't even know your name."

He smiled but just kept his even manner. "You don't need to know name, just Da..."

"I know," I interrupted. "You're 'Daddy.'"

Something about my exasperated tone made him smile. And maybe relent. "I did Outward Bound when I was your age. I acted out, got into trouble," he explained. "The Program set me straight."

"Was the program as unconventional when you did it?" I gestured around to the isolated cabin where I was more or less hostage.

That got a grin. "More so."

I was curious. "Did you have a Daddy?"

He nodded. "I did." He took a sip from the can of soda. "Later he taught me how to be a Daddy."

I still didn't get whatever psychoanalytic babble the Program was tapping into, but Daddy's words did make me think.

"You know what makes me, mad?" I asked.

"What?"

"This shit's probably working."

That got a chuckle. "You'll be glad when it's over Carter."

It was dark now and it felt darker out here in the middle of nowhere. "You ready for bed, kiddo?"

It was the first time Daddy used that nickname. But I replied I was.

We'd talked so much we were pretty quiet now as we went inside and got ready for bed. Normally Daddy slept in a T-shirt and shorts but that evening he peeled off his shirt. In the lamplight I could admire the powerful chest muscle and ripped abs. Best of all that DILF body was covered in a trimmed coat of salt-and-pepper fur. Before Daddy I didn't realize I was into older men. Now, I had to check my gaze.

"It's ok to look, buddy," the man said. His voice was as soft and encouraging as I'd ever heard it.

"What?" I replied in a checked grunt.

He tossed the shirt aside and turned to face me directly. He was a masculine god, even more alluring for his quiet nature. "It's OK to look," he repeated. "That's what Daddies are for."

The words were fucked up but they gave me a boner, instantly. I couldn't help it.

Daddy saw and was unfazed, peeling down his joggers to show off his soft genitals. That cock was meaty and matched the low-hanging full nuts in their shaved-smooth sac. It wasn't the first cock I'd seen of course, but it was the first live one I'd seen in a sort of sexual situation.

He walked over and pulled down the bed sheets. Daddy's backside was just as magnificent as his front. Strong back and a meaty round ass, the kind I didn't know 50-something men had. But Daddy had one.

My body was shaking, nervously, but the man was acting normal, getting into bed and pulling up the sheet to his abdomen. He gave one more look over.

"If you want to join me Carter, that's your move."

I didn't know if this was some Outward Bound trap or mindgame. A part of me didn't care, I was so horny. It's as if my brain couldn't stop my body from slipping out of my bed and crossing over. The one thing that gave me courage was seeing Daddy scoot his bed to the side to give me room to get in as he lifted the sheet a little. I could see a flash of his erection, even, thick and meaty like him.

"Stay strong, kiddo," he said softly and I nodded, getting into the bed to join him, my body shaking.

"There," he grinned as I finally settled into a lying position next to him. I could feel the heat of his body even if I was afraid to touch him still.

"You're first time with a man?" Daddy asked.

"Yes, Daddy." It was the first time I called him that. It made him smile, which made me glad.

His fingers touched my flank. I was still wearing my shorts but was shirtless and the skin contact felt incredible. This wasn't faking it with a girl.

"You're a very handsome young man, Carter," Daddy said in that soft tenor voice of his. "I'm honored to be your Daddy."

With that the mean leaned in and placed his lips against mine. It was my first kiss with a man, and nothing prepared me for it. A tingle went up my body and my prick surged even harder in my shorts. Particularly when Daddy's tongue pressed forward between my lips and into my mouth.

I was following his lead. Daddy was my coach at that moment. Coach in life and Coach in sex. I couldn't have dreamed of a better one. It was intense and sexual and passionate, but we also took our time.

As we got into it, I got the courage to feel him. His hairy, muscular, warm body. I reached down and touched his cock, hard and alive in my grip. My first dick, and one I'd never forget.

The way I moaned made Daddy pull back from the kiss.

"You like that, buddy?" he grinned.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

"You like dick," he said with assured ease. "Don't let anyone make you think you're a lesser man because of it."

"No, Daddy," I replied, gripping his boner one last time before relinquishing it. I had to feel up the rest of him, too. More.

He slipped my shorts down, at least from one side till I decided to help him out. My dick was sap-wet and as rigid as I had ever remembered it being.

"You're not the only one," he said. "Not the only young man into dick. Your buddy Dave..." he started.

That jolted me in surprise. "For real?"

Daddy nodded. His hand now circled around my crotch before his fingers grazed my boner. "For real."

I don't know if it was jealousy or something else I was feeling. "You do stuff with him?" I asked.

The man shook his head. "No. He has a different Daddy," he explained, pausing before deciding his could share the information. "Connell."

Well, fuck me, I thought. The last thing I would expect.

Now Daddy's lips were on my neck, kissing me as his hand alternated between massaging my smoother body and stroking my cock. "You up for the full ride tonight, Carter?" he asked.

If he'd asked me that even an hour before, I would have chickened out. But the body contact and the sexual intimacy made me want it all.

"Yeah, Daddy, I do," I answered. "Stay strong, right?"

That got a laugh. He leaned up. I'd never seen him look so hot, so handsome. "Yeah, kiddo... that's right. Stay strong." He leaned in for another kiss, softer this time. It felt right. Righter than right.

Then he started working his way down, kissing my chest and abs, feeling me up some, telling me he was going to take his time.

I got my dick sucked for the first time. I got my balls licked. Then Daddy urged me to pull back my legs and proceeded to give me my first rim job.

I decided then and there that two months here wasn't going to be enough. I hoped my Dad would keep me here the whole damn summer.

"Oh fuck!" I hissed. It was stimulating and naughty and tickling at the same time. I loved getting eaten out. I didn't have anyone to compare it to, but Daddy was a pro. Eager, intense yet also working in some finesse to keep it intersting.

I slowly relaxed my hole. My whole body was relaxed, in fact, lying back into the bed, looking up at the ceiling as I kept my legs pulled back for Daddy.

The first finger entry caught me by surprise. I looked down to see Daddy's brown eyes fixed on me, as he worked his finger in and out.

"Stay strong, buddy," he urged softly.

"Fuck yeah, Daddy," I replied. Trying to be his good soldier. Daddy was gonna make me a man that night, and I wanted to be all man for him.

He finally pulled back and reached over. I didn't even notice the little jar there before, but Daddy unscrewed the lid and dug in. There was some liquidy grease that coated his fingers.

And now my asshole. Damn, it made his two fingers feel incredible going in. And out. And in again.

"Yeah, you're hungry, kiddo."

I grunted. Those fingers were feeling intense in a great way, but short circuiting my thought. I flashed to think of Dave, imagining Mike Connell doing this to him.

A third finger now breached my relaxed ring. It gave a few gentle prods then pulled out.

"You're ready."

The man scooted in place, his hard dick standing straight up from his hairy crotch that was still darker brown than his chest hair. I had felt but not gotten a real good look at his cock, but Daddy was real thick and maybe 6.5 inches in length. The guy was horned up, too, judging by how rigid his meat was. He slathered some of that grease on his boner and pushed it down to line himself up.

"The entry might be tough," he warned. "Or not."

"You better not say, 'Stay strong,'" I joked.

That got a laugh out of the man. "You're all man, Carter," he said.

And like that his cock was breaching my hole.

"Unnfg!" I let out, before I caught myself. The sting surprised me. It didn't hurt too bad, but the unfamiliarity of it freaked me out some.

Daddy's hands rand along my abs, gently, coaxing me silently to relax. I tried, until I was successful. More dick slid into me. The man was patient, but I could tell he was really turned on.

I was getting my cherry taken away, and I was thrilled, particularly when Daddy's cock bored deeper. Weirdly, the deeper the man went the better it felt. Daddy felt bigger than 6.5 inches. Maybe I'd underestimated his size, maybe it was just the psychological effect of having him buried inside me.

"Fuck yeah, kiddo," Daddy growled. "Take it."

I looked up at him. The man was a stud who knew what he was doing. "You done this before?" I asked. "Taken a guy's virginity?"

The question caught him off guard. It was almost like he didn't want to answer me. But he looked down with those soulful brown eyes and replied, "I have, Carter. Many times." He pulled his hips back and thrust in. THAT felt fricking amazing and I held onto his meaty arms. Then again. "But I care about each and every one," he added. His thrusts got faster, as Daddy intuited I was receptive. "I care about you, kiddo."

Daddy was taking me there. Physically and psychologically, he was showing me how amazing getting fucked could be. The man wasn't rough, but he pumped faster and harder. He was teaching me I loved it that way. I held on and looked up at him and felt my prick quiver.

"Fuck me, Daddy!" I hissed.

"Yeah, kiddo. Daddy's got ya." His body seemed in control but his breath was ragged and heavy. The man was turned on like hell.

That thick cock seemed a blur inside me now, its way in my tunnel greased up and the heavy hard rod punching some spot inside me.

I dind't realize I was so close to cumming until Daddy's greased fist wrapped around my bone. Not even needing to stroke it, just touching me made me fire off. I saw white, and my body felt hot and tense, then it all got released with a series of cum shots firing out of my young jock body.

I tried to keep my vision, to look up at Daddy in gratitude. To watch his own O face take over form the calm, collected surety of his experience. That got tossed out the window when Daddy came. He was as lost in pleasure as me. That made me happy.

We crashed together. Holding onto one another's hot sweaty bodies, them our lips meeting to kiss again.

"Oh buddy," he hissed finally. Like I was the one who'd done him a favor. Maybe I had.

We didn't talk after, we didn't need to. Instead, Daddy held me in a spoon position and we drifted off to sleep. At least for a few hours before we had sex again.

***

The next week, Daddy had me pack my backpack, and he led me back to main compound. I would have been sad our alone time was over, but I knew it wasn't going to be our last. Daddy didn't have to tell me. I just knew he'd be in my life from now on and me in his.

Punk dude Pete was back. His hair had grown out and was in a military buzz and his snarl was gone. Dave though was the one who welcomed me first with a bro hug. The other guys followed suit.

I wondered how many of them had a Daddy.

***

I was part of the Program now. Welcoming the newcomers. Bonding with the cynical ones. I'd been where they were and knew what they were going through. I'd been a fuck up, too.

Two months went by quickly. My Dad was there to pick me up. He had an apprehensive look on his face. Connell told me that Dad had been updated on my progress, but after what my father had been through maybe he was nervous I'd not been truly changed.

I had my mobile phone back, and I'd already looked at the last messages multiple times. "Stay strong, kiddo - Daddy." Then "You better stay in touch. Love ya, Carter."

I took one last look and tucked my phone into my pocket before running over to give my Dad a big hug.

"Damn, Sport."

Dad hadn't called me Sport in ages.

"Thank you, Dad," I said. There would be more to say later. But the look on his face was a huge reward. His fingers grazed behind my ear as he held my head steady and looked into my eyes. Like he was reunited with a son he'd lost for real.

"OK if we break up the journey home?" he asked, snapping out of his spell and grabbing my bag from me. "It's a long drive."

"Of course," I said.

We got settled into the front seat and Dad started the car. We made some small talk, and Dad caught me up on life back home. Though I didn't miss much, other than maybe Dad re-treating the wood on the back deck.

We were winding down the mountain and re-entering civilization. At least if these small, one-traffic-light towns counted as civilization.

Dad shifted from the small talk. "So... you survived OK, Son?"

I nodded. "More than survived, Dad. Thrived." I had bought into the whole Program now.

He seemed pleased. "I, um... heard from an old Army buddy of mine," he said. Something in his tone seemed laden with meaning. "He said he got to know you real well."

I blushed. I knew damn well my father was talking about Daddy.

"Yes, sir. We got real tight."

Dad had a good idea of what I meant. He gave a gentle nod and glanced over at me. "I'm glad to hear."

I was chubbing up in my jeans now thinking about Daddy. "OK if I go visit him sometime, Dad?" I asked.

Dad's voice got quiet. "That can probably be arranged."

I thought maybe I freaked my dad out. But we were quiet for a lot of that drive. It had been around 3PM when I'd checked out of the Compound, and it was getting dinner time.

I loved diner food and after two months of Outward Bound meals, I was ready for a real restaurant meal. I scarfed down my food, which amused Dad. "Looks like they haven't been feeding you, Sport," he said.

"They definitely don't believe in creature comforts," I said. I pulled out my phone. "This might have been the hardest thing to live without." I mostly was checking to see if Daddy sent me another message.

Dad laughed. Then he got serious. "So... no hard feelings, Carter?"

I sighed. "God, Dad. After what I did to you? What I put your through? I don't know how to make it up to you."

"You don't have to make anything up to me, Son. Just stay on the straight and narrow. At least till you find yourself."

I took that in. "I'm finding myself, Dad. For real."

"That's all a father can ask," he said.

Dad was normally not great at expressing emotion, and already he was itching to get the check and pay for the meal.

We drove a little bit more. Dad had me find an available hotel that wasn't too expensive. I don't think I realized until we checked in how long of a day it had been. Emotionally as much as anything.

I decided not to check my phone again. Daddy and I would find a groove to correspond and to meet again. I trusted him.

After I brushed my teeth, Dad was in one of the beds, watching TV on low volume. He wasn't build quite as strong as Daddy but his upper body was solid, and he had the same soft furry chest. As I stripped down to my briefs, Dad's eyes watched me furtively. Probing me with soft expectation.

I took the initiative this time. Just feeling Dad's eyes on my half-naked body was all the signal I needed. Pausing at my own bed, I turned back to him. "Ok if I join you instead?" I asked.

Dad was too scared to reply. But he nodded and slid over.

Only when I got into bed with him did I realize that Dad's bod was more solid than I initially thought. His clothes always hid the hard tone of his muscle and he had some love handles that stopped shy of a beer belly.

Our kiss was soft and taboo as fuck. Dad's hands clung to my body, like eagle talons. I pushed my tongue into my father's mouth and felt him plunge his back. Dad didn't kiss like Daddy did. It was hard and needy.

Just as impetuously he and I stripped down our underwear. Our dicks were a lot alike. Longer, regular thickness, with a gentle curve to the right, heaving leaking. Like twins. Dad looked down at mine, like I did at his.

"You're all grown up, Carter."

"Yeah, Dad." I reached down and touched his cock. My dad's cock. He wasn't Daddy, he wasn't my first man, but the forbidden aspect made it off the charts. "I gotta learn to be your son again, though."

Dad gulped. His eyes grew misty wet. "You never stopped, sport. Not even this last year."

We kissed. Dad was responding to my soft approach, like I'd responded to Daddy's. My hand ran along his strong chest and his softer middle as we made out. I felt every bit of guilt for how I'd treated Dad and it was coming out in the only way I knew. Like Dad, I wasn't good at expressing emotion.

But I was good at this.

I broke off the kiss with a playful smile. Dad seemed to be trying to read what I was thinking. I let him wonder a minute longer.

I scooted down, kind of kneeling on the bed, till I was face to face with the dick that made me. I touched it again, feeling its poker hot heat and its steel rigidity. I could smell his masculine scent.

"Sport..." he urged, as if telling me something.

His next words caught in his throat as I took his dick into my mouth. I paused a second. Daddy had instructed me in this, but my father's cock felt particularly dry until I summoned up some extra saliva. Then I went down on him, slowly, teasingly.

I was going to make things up to Dad in the way I knew how.

He placed his hand on my head, softly cradling it as I lovingly blew him to completion.

***

The next morning when Dad was in the shower I sent a text.

"Daddy, you didn't tell me you knew my father."

He was up and the reply was quick. "You had to find out for yourself." Then, "I hope you can be a junior counselor next summer."

I thought of what next year would mean. Being off at college, enjoying some independence. Making new friends.

But I knew that meant nothing. "You know I will," I wrote.

"Stay strong," Daddy replied.

"Stay strong," I wrote back, then set down my phone.

#drakestories

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allamericansbitch · 2 years

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Hi everyone! Here’s the newest addition to my Creator Shoutout Series (january 29 - february 5)! For info about the series, I explained it in the first post here, but generally, it’s to show appreciate to editors and their creations that i love from the past week. To track this series or look at previous shoutouts, please check out the tag on my blog *creatorshoutouts. Have a great week everyone!

taylor swift: lavender haze music video gifset by @tswift

only murders in the building: 2x05 gifset by @trueloveistreacherous

the last of us: 1x03 gifset by @buckysbarnes

taylor swift: lavender haze as album covers gifset by @newromantics

normal people: connell waldron gifset by @birthdaysentiment

everything everywhere all at once: screenplay gifset by @milflaszlo

taylor swift: midnights era music videos gifset by @eliorperlman

the last of us: 1x03 gifset by @heartmis

succession: shiv roy in season 4 gifset by @kenshivrome

taylor swift: web weaving gifset by @thatwasthenightthingschanged

the last of us gifset by @attackoneyebrows

ethel cain: sun bleached flies gifset by @usercannibal

taylor swift: midnight rain gifset by @taylorswiftdebut

wednesday: enid sinclair gifset by @wednesdaynetflix

the last if us: 1x03 gifset by @tessas-thompson

taylor swift: lavender haze music video gifset by @cametotheshowinsd

the last of us: bill x frank gifset by @obiwan

everything everywhere all at once gifset by @shegos

taylor swift: sylvia plath gifset by @jonismitchell

up (2009) x the last of us gifset by @buckley-robin

the last of us: bill x frank gifset by @nickoffermen

taylor swift: lavender haze edit by @rep-meow-tay-tion

glass onion: tv tropes gifset by @justaleapoffaith

taylor swift: midnights gifset by @venka

sharp objects: 1x04 gifset by @moonlight

set it up gifset by @daisylouisejohnson

taylor swift: midnights music videos gifset by @somuchstardust

the last of us gifset by @elliejoel

stranger things: max mayfield gifset by @seaoftr

taylor swift: hits different gifset by @paintedtaygolden

the office: 2x01 gifset by @jackharlows

10 things i hate about you: kat stratford gifset by @riley-keoughs

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the last of us: bill x frank gifset by @theedorksinlove

the shining gifset by @breakfastiffanys

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stranger things: steve harrington gifset by @enbyeddiemunson

wednesday gifset by @tylrgalpins

gilmore girls: jess x rory gifset by @highqueendreamgirl

taylor swift: album covers gifset by @glendoll

the last of us: 1x03 gifset by @maygrant

taylor swift: midnights lyrics gifset by @eliorperlman

the last of us gifset by @richardgrimes

taylor swift: dancing with our hands tied gifset by @rogerhealey

the menu: margot gifset by @kitherondale

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taylor swift: you’re on your own kid x all to well short film gifset by @labyrinth

selena gomez: revival gifset by @alexstewart

the menu gifset by @trashcora

taylor swift: lavender haze icons and headers by @newrcmantlcs

the office: pam x jim gifset by @daisylouisejohnson

the last of us: bill x frank sidelines gifset by @simon-eriksson

taylor swift: pantone colros gifset by @coldasyou

the last of us: bill x frank gifset by @yenvengerberg

f.r.i.e.n.d.s: monica x chandler gifset by @nessa007

taylor swift: lavender haze gifset by @antoniosvivaldi

stranger things: nancy and mike gifset by @dcbicki

taylor swift: bejeweled gifset by @lovestory

taylor swift: dorothea x midnight rain parallel gifset by @thatwasthenightthingschanged

#*creatorshoutouts #posting early bc of the grammys tonight

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that-darn-clown · 2 days

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so. had an interesting thought about tghh!Cassidy and his autism. and by "interesting," i mean fucking hilarious.

so like. some context:

as i've mentioned before, Cass is semiverbal. the way this ends up manifesting for him is...similar to selective mutism, but different enough that it's clearly Not That. like, at his best, he's able to talk using short sentences and phrases without too much difficulty, but still stays pretty quiet most of the time. the different tiers of this are:

Most Comfortable (at home with family, or with the Emily's): see above. this is where you'd probably hear him talk the most, and with the least difficulty.

Out In Public/Surrounded By People (ex. Daycare, Pre-K, Freddy's, Fredbear's, school if he'd managed to live to that point): can still talk, but heavily prefers not to. responds with single word answers or short phrases, but speech sounds more forced or "odd." again, had he lived, he probably would've learned sign language and used it to communicate where possible.

Straight Up In Distress/Having A Meltdown (see Fnaf 4 minigames, or most of the time during the period between Andrew's Death and The Bite of '83): can hardly speak, but can make sounds. any speech he does make is usually extremely forced, and it sounds like he's effectively choking the words out. mostly communicates in one word answers/short phrases relating to whatever he's in distress over, or about getting it to stop (i'd say to see the only actual dialogue we get from him during Fnaf 4, where he's begging Mike to let him out of the Back Room in Fredbear's, and where he's begging Mike and his friends to not put him in Fredbear's mouth. that sort of thing)

he stims in a lot of ways! flapping his hands (especially with long sleeves...totally not projecting, not at all), rocking a bit while sitting down, bopping his head to music, chewing his thumb or sleeves (depending on if he's around family or loved ones who won't judge him, or if he's in public), doing the Pop Cat Thing (i do this myself. you probably know what i'm talking about), humming various lil tunes to himself, and i think he'd have a vocal stim of just saying things like "boop" to himself. or while booping the noses on his plushies. that kind of stuff.

horrific! sensory! issues!! doesn't like bright lights and loud sounds. there's several foods he doesn't like because the Texture Fucking Sucks. if his clothes aren't soft/they feel like sandpaper? won't wear them. he doesn't like the feeling of chalk on his fingers but still plays with it anyway because he finds it fun. it's a similar situation with dirt (basically he doesn't like the feeling of dry stuff sticking to his fingers...but he's got no problem with wet or even slimy stuff-)

special interests! plushies, sewing, stuff along those lines. also would've gotten into baking when he got older and i take no criticism on that. also would've gotten into a lot of morbid shit too had he lived. just reads these old mystery novels, short stories that are. really interesting for an Elementary School Student to be reading (think stuff like The Most Dangerous Game by Richard Connell and The Landlady by Roald Dahl), and is just very fascinated with how stuff like anatomy works. the kid also likes horror movies. so just let that all sink in.

carries around his plushies (or A plushie) as comfort items. if he went to school, i can see the teachers just letting him keep them with him because They Aren't Dealing With His Dad. Fuck No. (even in a timeline where no murders happen, William probably still scares people. he's not only Really protective over his kids and takes their side in almost everything, but he's also a REALLY tall guy. he also just has the constant wide-eyed, unhinged hare-esque look. it definitely doesn't help).

so, with all that out of the way. here's the funny thing i thought of:

in the good timeline, where everyone lived and Cassidy got to go to school, i like to think that eventually his teacher (and just. most of the staff, let's be real) started to suspect this kid had something up with him (specifically autism) and decided to have "That Discussion That Teachers Apparently Have With Parents When They Strongly Suspect Your Kid's Neurodivergent" with William.

so they pull Cassidy into the principal's office to have a meeting with him, William, and the teacher. they basically tell William "hey, we think your son's autistic. maybe get that checked out? either way, we're willing to help how we can." they then have to tell him "no, this isn't a bad thing and we aren't insulting your child. please sir calm down" because he thinks them calling Cassidy autistic was like. saying it was a Bad Thing (remember, this is. the 80s, unfortunately. so you can see why he'd be worried).

Cassidy, during all of this, is sitting there and doing his Pop Cat stim while he (impatiently) waits for this meeting to be over. the kid just wants to go back to lunch and eat his turkey and cheese sandwich in peace >:/ (< also has issues with his routines being interrupted. this kid hates Fire Drills for multiple obvious reasons)

then, in the middle of all of this, William drops a bombshell of:

"Well, why would his behavior be odd to me? I used to be like that when I was his age. I'm even still like that now, for God's sake."

so now Cassidy's 4th grade teacher and the principal have to deal with the "should we tell him/who's gonna tell him" moment of "Oh Dear Fuck, There's A Possibility That Mr. Afton, THE Mr. Afton, Is Autistic."

and then that unravels into the realizations of, in this order:

Oh Fuck, Michael And Elizabeth Are Probably ALSO Autistic. Which Explains A Lot

Wait...Michael And The Emily Twins Seemed To Act Kind Of Similar. Like, They Got Each Other In A Lot Of Ways That No One Else Seemed To. Oh Jesus-

Wait. (Remembers What Henry Himself Was Like During Parent-Teacher Conferences...And Meetings In General) OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE-

and that's how Cass's 4th grade teacher and the Elementary School Principal discovered that the entire Afton and Emily Families were autistic. This Explains A Lot. Including Freddy's And Fredbear's.

This means so much to me you have no idea

#the clown! it speaks!#*william gesturing at fazbears* do you think a neurodivergent person could make this???#the answer was yes

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steveyockey · 2 years

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At its core, the Predator is a modern science fiction take on the concept of “the great white hunter.” The term applied to real-life figures like Alan Black and Frederick Selous, along with fictional creations like Allan Quatermain. These figures were often Europeans or Americans who traveled to Africa to hunt exotic game. This was the time when Africa was known as “the dark continent” and its inhabitants frequently portrayed as “primitive.” These hunters quickly built a mythology around themselves.

Similar to Richard Connell’s classic short story “The Most Dangerous Game,” the Predator essentially takes that idea to an absurdly heightened extreme: What if a big game hunter pursued human beings rather than animals? Much like the Americans and the Europeans traveling to Africa with their guns and traps, the Predator arrives on Earth with more advanced technology to stalk and kill its prey. Much like those hunters take ivory from fallen elephants, the Predator takes trophies of its own.

While riffing on these colonial tropes, Predator was a product of its time. It followed a military team led by Major Alan “Dutch” Schaefer (Arnold Schwarzenegger), which is co-opted by Dutch’s old friend Al Dillon (Carl Weathers) for a top secret black ops mission in Central America. It was a rather timely premise for a science fiction action film, with its June 1987 release neatly intersecting with the televised Iran-Contra hearings that covered shady American activity in Nicaragua.

Part of the genius of Predator lies in the obvious thematic layers running through the movie. Just like the Predator is an alien presence on Earth, Dutch and his team are well aware of the fact that they have no business on “the wrong side of the border.” Early in the film, Dutch and his team tear through a rebel base with ruthless efficiency, demonstrating their superior training and firepower. The irony is that the Predator will be just as effective in dismembering them.

Like many action movies of the decade, including Return of the Jedi and Top Gun, Predator has been read as a relitigation of Vietnam. It is about an American foreign intervention that goes disastrously wrong. However, like in the Rambo movies, Predator’s protagonists succeed by appropriating the tactics of the Viet Cong, by staging low-tech guerrilla warfare against a technologically superior foe. There is an element of America working through what Nixon called “the Vietnam Syndrome.”

Trachtenberg and Aison understand that Predator is a movie about the horror of colonialism, but they push the metaphor even further in Prey. After all, the heroes of Predator are a black ops team that are themselves engaged in extending the influence of the United States into Central America. The most prominent indigenous character in Predator is Anna Gonsalves (Elpidia Carrillo), the only survivor of the raid on the guerrilla camp, who spends most of the movie as an unarmed hostage.

Naru feels less like Dutch and more like Anna. Like Anna, Naru is the most prominent woman in a predominantly male cast. Like Anna, Naru spends extended portions of the film as a captive hostage, overpowered by both her own tribesman Wasape (Stormee Kipp) and later by a French trapper (Mike Paterson). Like Anna, Naru survives her first encounter with the creature because it doesn’t consider her a threat. However, unlike Anna, Naru asserts agency within the plot of Prey.

Rather than focusing on an external force intruding into another nation, Prey focuses on an indigenous population. The film is set on the American frontier, primarily within the Comanche Nation. Repeatedly throughout the film, the Predator is likened to the European settlers who are encroaching on the North American continent. Naru repeatedly encounters traps set by those hunters, which are not too dissimilar to the technology employed by the Predator itself.

At one point, Naru stumbles across a field of skinned buffalo. It directly evokes the skinned bodies hanging from the tree in the original Predator. For a moment, it seems like the alien creature might have done this, until Naru recovers a discarded cigar. The horror is man-made. It is an image taken directly from American history, tied explicitly to the subjugation of the Native American population. To quote an anonymous army official, “Every buffalo dead is an Indian gone.”

Central to Prey is the importance of standing up against imperialist aggression. Taabe turns a trophy skull on the Predator’s belt into an improvised weapon. Naru is undergoing the kühtaamia, a ritual in which she must hunt a creature strong enough to hunt her. “You think the reason for kühtaamia is to prove you can hunt,” Sumu (Stefany Mathias) warns Naru. “But there’s only one reason: to survive.” Taabe summarizes the importance of the ritual in setting boundaries, “When the lion comes, you tell that thing, ‘This is as far as you go. No more. This is it.’”

#some of the best film analysis I’ve read this year AND I just rediscovered it in my bookmarks. good day #reading #prey #prey (2022)#this isn’t the whole article but a good chunk of it because I just love every sentence. more sentences to read at the link but at least I #saved you a tiny bit of scrolling??

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