#anyone live near Dallas

[travelingtwentysomething]

I want to grow romaine lettuce, cucumbers, red and yellow or white onion, Roma or other tomatoes, cilantro, dill, celery, carrots, red potatoes and russet potatoes so I can always make soups and salads and pico de gallo and salsa.

But I don't want to do the work. Because I am a lazy heifer.

If anyone wants to build a garden on my acre, I'll water it according to your instructions and occasionally pull weeds or whatever, and we can split the veggie haul.

[quizzicalwriter]

Love Her Madly

Pairing: Modern!Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas is more than willing to lend a helping hand, even on film.

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Camgirl!Reader, fingering, dirty talkin’, all that good stuff.

Word Count: 4.6k

Everyone had a career, whether it was accounting, mechanical engineering, or meteorology - everyone had something that provided monetary income. Something to survive, hell, some people even loved their jobs. For you, work was a bit more personal. You interacted with customers frequently, purchased things to pull in newer eyes, and you were damn good at it. 

Questions directed your way on the topic of your career were quickly, and skillfully deflected. Most dropped the subject, willing to delve into the next conversational topic, others were persistent. Your friends were the ladder, childhood companions who knew you better than you knew yourself. They’d nudge your arm with their elbow, teasing you with their theories on what you did for a living. 

Hitman, masseuse, dog trainer. All of them were incorrect. 

Except for one, one whispered statement into the crook of your neck on a night when all of you found yourself way past the point of inebriation. It had caught you off guard, admittedly sending a flush of heat across your chest and cheeks. If it had been anyone else, you might’ve gotten away from it unscathed. 

But you didn’t, because Dallas had been the one to guess correctly. 

Luckily for you, Dallas had no issue keeping a secret he found amusing to himself. However, his keeping of your secret included a few ill-made quips at your expense. Whenever company dwindled low, leaving only the pair of you sitting together, he’d inquire about your line of work. His words always came off hushed, almost near a whisper, but the questions were genuine nonetheless - and his intrigue was palpable. 

Usually, your work centered around yourself, toys and props were included every few clips, but it was mainly you on your lonesome. Your viewers seemed to love it enough, and if one tipped particularly heartily, you usually indulged in a little fantasy-making. Every few days you’d check your inbox, mainly to clear out spam messages and the occasional creep, but one caught your eye as you scrolled through the monotonous topics. 

A regular, a nearly fifty-year-old man with enough wealth and boredom to stock your tip jar with obscenities tied into compliments. He was kind, and lascivious, but nice enough to leave you genuinely considering his request - it certainly helped that he’d stuck a hefty tip onto the end of it all. 

All you had to do was find someone to sleep with, no biggie. 

Right?

Whatever method you’d used in the past to hype yourself up had failed you, miserably, leaving you drumming your fingers against the cool tabletop of your booth in feigned hope to ease your worried mind. Out of your friends, and coworkers you were acquainted with, only one struck you with genuine possibility. 

Dallas.

You framed your meeting around buying him lunch, which admittedly, you had promised to do after he bought you lunch the past fourteen times. It didn’t take much convincing, and after a whopping thirty-second phone call you found yourself waiting at your local hole-in-the-wall diner. 

The complimentary fries were enough to keep your mind distracted, the sharp sting of the salt against your well-bitten lips keeping you settled in the present. You weren’t worried about embarrassing yourself, you had walked in on Dallas with enough women to officially blind yourself. The worries flurrying around your mind centered around your friendship with Dallas, one you’d had since the both of you were scraggly teens. 

“Hey, kid.” Dallas quipped with a sharp push to the back of your head, quickly snapping you from your mind with a groan. He only laughed at your reaction, a lopsided smile crinkling the skin by his eyes as he plopped himself down across from you. 

“Ass.” You murmured, fighting away your smile with a rub to the back of your head. “Go ahead, order what you want. I’m like, what- fifty dollars in debt?”

“More than that.” Dallas replied with a sigh and a reach across the table, grabbing a few fries before tossing them into his mouth. “Who’s countin’? I ain’t.” 

You had spoken to Dallas on nearly every topic under the sun; sex, academics, money, drugs - all of it. Yet you were left feeling uneasy about raising such a premise with a lifelong friend. As you two finished your orders, you found yourself willing your silent mind into words, hopeful that there would be an eloquent way to word wanting your best friend to fuck you on camera. 

“Dal-“ You started with a clear of your throat, free hand grasping one of the few remaining fries from the basket between you both. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Dallas hummed, not bothering to hide his intrigue as he relaxed back against the leather booth, legs spread in a manner that left nothing to the imagination as the denim of his jeans clung to his upper thighs. You weren’t sure if he noticed your blatant staring, the way your eyes couldn’t decide if they wanted to focus on his parted lips or his parted thighs, he wore a smirk nonetheless. 

“You know what I do for work, so I don’t have to explain that part.” Before you could finish your words, he leaned forward, resting his elbows against the cool tabletop between you. “I was wondering if you wanted to film something with me?”

“You want me to fuck you on camera?” He asked, tone full of nonchalance and loud enough to turn a few heads from those seated close to you. You were half-inclined to leap across the center table and clamp your hand over his mouth, but you knew Dallas well enough to know that would’ve fueled him more. 

So, with a crimson-tinted face, you nodded. 

To your surprise, he lifted his drink to his lips with a shrug of his shoulders and a quick, “Alright.”

Relief flooded your senses quicker than relative confusion on his quick decision, your mind not wanting to jinx things or have him second guess it all. Dallas had done risky things before just to say he’d done it, maybe he viewed this under the same lens? 

Some childlike part of you was left wondering if he still saw you the same. It wasn’t every day that someone called their best friend over for a lunch date, only to spring on in the middle of it all that they wanted you to fuck them on camera. 

“Dal-“ You began, clearing your throat halfway through the word. “Do you- do you look at me the same?”

His brow quirked, confusion written clear across his face as he chewed away on another fry. Once he saw you were being genuine, his eyes rolled and he let out a lengthy sigh. 

“‘Course I do.” He mumbled. “Everyone does something for cash. I don’t mind lending a helping hand.” 

Even though his words ended in enough insinuation to leave you choking back another laugh, you were thankful for him. He was an odd friend, one you were constantly worried about the mental and physical well-being of, but you knew that he’d seen enough shit in his lifetime to leave him perpetually unbothered.

“Cool.” You chimed, beaming him a genuine smile as you lifted your hips, fishing around in the back of your jeans for your wallet. “Little weird you’re willing to do it with no convincing, but I’ll take it.”

He snorted at your words, leaning back against the cracked leather of the booth with his drink in hand. “You make me sound bad, kid. Just want to help you out is all.”

“Is all?” You asked, placing down enough money to cover your tab and his, along with a hefty tip in a silent apology to your waitress for having overheard Dallas’s filthy mouth. “You realize what I’m asking you to do right?”

His eyes flickered up to yours, a look within them you hadn’t seen before, it left your stomach flipping in on itself. With a quick placement of his empty glass against the table, he leaned closer to you. 

“I’m going to fuck you on camera.” He stated, once again, not quiet enough for your liking. “And when you post it, you get paid. Helping hand, right?”

A ‘helping hand’ was a different frame of mind for it all, but you agreed with a shallow nod and a quick sip of your drink. 

“There are people here.” You whispered as you fished an ice cube from the bottom of your glass. “Don’t need them knowing my business.” 

“You ain’t seeing these people again.” He quipped with a quick reach across the table for your glass, his thick fingers slinking to the bottom of the cup for an ice cube of his own. “I’ll make it up to you later, how’s that?”

“You better.”

You tried to ignore the cocky smile that overtook Dallas’s lax features, the way his lips wrapped around the ice, the droplets of water curving around his wrist. While you lost yourself in the flex of his jaw as he chewed away at the ice, Dallas let his mind run wild with everything he could do to make you regret your words. 

Your apartment was modest, never something you bragged about, but you felt comfortable and proud enough of it to have people over several times a month. The guys had made their home in your apartment, each having their own designated spot they’d relax in for the time being until they moved onto something else that captured their attention. 

Dallas’s was your couch, pressed tight against the exposed brick wall, directly underneath one of the bigger windows overlooking the land beneath the building. He’d always push the window up, leaving the screen down to ensure no bugs crawled in as he smoked half a pack of cigarettes while talkin’ to whoever had come with him to bother you. 

Just as you assumed he would, he kicked off his boots and slung his jacket over the back of a nearby armchair, giving you a short-lived grin that sent your stomach careening in on itself before he made his way down the adjacent hallway. You followed behind him, abruptly kicking off your shoes as well before padding after him. 

“Dallas?” You called, watching as his form disappeared behind the beads you kept stapled to your doorway. They served as a makeshift curtain, only Ponyboy and Johnny seemed to love them as much as you did, Dallas always swatted at them - not that day, however. “Hell are you doin’ in there?”

As you parted the beaded curtain to the side, you caught sight of Dallas making himself comfortable on your bed, legs sprawled out before him as he struck a match against the side of his belt buckle. His blown pupils gave away his internal thoughts, so you decided against wasting time. You already had a set-up near your bed, it took no time at all to have everything propped up, and with the click of your camera, Dallas looked up to you. 

“Strip.” He murmured, a sharp inhale following the order as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Come closer, doll. You want the camera to see, don’t you?”

You nodded, moving closer to the end of your bed. His hips lifted as he not-so-discreetly adjusted himself through his jeans. The sight of his cock straining against his jeans sent your confidence through the roof, and with little more than a smile directed his way, you lifted your shirt up and over your head, letting the fabric fall to your feet. 

“Shit-“ He breathed, eyes widening as you began unfastening your belt. You didn’t try to contain the giggle that left you at his comment, you knew you’d feel the same in only a matter of minutes. 

“C’mere.” He murmured around the filter of his cigarette, a soft smile toiling with the corner of his full lips. You listened without wasting a second, kicking your unbuttoned jeans off your thighs until they were a crumbled mess against the hardwood floor. 

His eyes watched you as you moved over to your bed, how your chest flushed a deep crimson, the heat spreading up your throat until it turned your cheeks the same hue. You noticed the faint lift of his hips as you sunk to your knees, the soft bedspread enveloping your legs as you crawled over to him. 

“Sit between my legs, doll. Want them to see how pretty you look.”

You were used to holding yourself to a certain degree whenever you filmed your videos, a personal disconnect from your real self. Dallas had done away with it, his eyes coaxing you in, deep brown hues echoing each pant that left your parted lips. As you moved to sit between his legs, he hooked an arm around your middle, effortlessly pulling your back flush to his chest. 

The smoke from his cigarette left your eyes watering, but all you could focus on was the steady throb of arousal between your legs, every atom of your body screaming for his touch. Your hips shifted, twisting, inadvertently brushing your ass back against his lap. You felt the rumble of his breath circling his chest, the reflection of his head falling back reflected on your nearby camera lens. 

“Stop that.” He laughed out, words muffled as he kept his cigarette steady. “Already hard, doll. Gonna make me cum before I get to show you off.”

Wherever Dallas had learned to talk filthy, you made a mental note to pay homage to. Each word sent shockwaves through you, leaving your cunt clenching down around nothing, cum dripping down the cleft of your ass. As you tried to refocus yourself, Dallas leaned back behind you, snubbing his half-gone cigarette on a nearby windowsill. 

With a slow exhale, his hand moved to cup your throat, tilting your head back to face the camera fully. You could see yourself in the reflection of the lens, face, and chest flushed, lips parted - pitiful. 

“Come on, pretty girl.” He urged, tone a centimeter away from being an all-out beg. “Spread your legs, show them your cunt.”

He spoke of your body as if he’d seen it, mapped out your being beneath his skilled tongue, and left kisses in places unseen by your own eyes. You obeyed, lips parted in a silent moan as his hands helped your thighs apart with a gentle push to your inner knees. His chin rested on your shoulder, eyes fixed on yours in the reflection of your camera lens. 

“Look at that.” He whispered, tilting his head to see you, a coy smirk written across his face. “Soaking wet already, huh? That desperate?”

You watched yourself, your cunt twitching around nothing, dripping cum onto the bedsheets below. His hands moved from your knees, slowly caressing your trembling thighs until his fingertips brushed against the swell of your sex. 

His left hand slipped back, fingertips digging into the hollow before your hipbone, pressing down in a manner to keep you steady as his right slipped down your cunt, fingers parting your soaked folds with ease. You allowed your head to fall back, eyes shutting in a relief so packed with bliss you could’ve thanked Dallas until your voice gave out. 

With a chaste kiss to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger pressed into your cunt, gently curling up in a ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips rocked into his touch, pulling his fingers deeper, your body doing a better job at voicing your neediness than your vocal cords ever could. 

“Think you could cum from this?” He asked, even though you were both keenly aware of the fluttering of your cunt around his digits, the pants of breath that left you with each push of his fingers. You nodded, and he smiled. “Want to make you cum on my fingers first.” 

You turned your head, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as his fingers plunged into your cunt, the heel of his palm brushing against your clit. You lifted your arm, curling it around the back of his neck, holding onto him as though you were petrified he’d vanish beneath your grasp. 

A ravenous pleasure blossomed in your lower stomach as you rocked your hips into his palm, small pants and whimpers of his name tumbling past your parted lips. He whispered praise against the shell of your ear, gaze set on the reflection of you in the camera lens, legs spread, hands clinging to his forearm and along the back of his neck, cunt stretched around his fingers. 

“Dal-“ You whined, voice breaking off into another desperate moan as your cunt fluttered around his fingers. He hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple as he pushed his fingers deeper, curling them upward with each thrust. He sent you careening over the edge with a gentle circle of his thumb around your clit, continuing the same blissful motion as you cried out his name into the crook of his neck. 

“That’s it-“ He hushed, cheek pressed to your temple. “Good girl, so fuckin’ good.”

Cum dripped from your cunt, dampening the comforter beneath you. Dallas caught sight of it in the reflection of the camera lens, pride swelling in his chest at the realization that he’d made you cum hard enough to coat his fingers and the bedding in your arousal. Only when your moans broke off into desperate pleas did he slow his movements, fingers still gently rocking forward into your cunt, leaving you teetering on the edge of mind-shattering oversensitivity.

He lifted his arm after slowing his movements to a halt, exposing his glistening fingers to the warm sunlight pouring through your bedroom window. You watched with bated breath as he brought his fingers to his lips, his eyes locked on yours. It was as if the air was knocked from your lungs when he parted his lips, pushing the soaked digits against his tongue. You could hear the deep-set groan reverberating within his chest as your saccharine taste coated his tongue, all but making him drool as he sucked your taste from his fingers. 

His left hand moved to cup your jaw, tilting your head back as he lowered himself to meet your lips. His right grabbed at your breast, smearing his saliva along with the remnants of your arousal across your skin as his lips met yours. The moan that fell from your lips was pure, completely instinctive. He swallowed it with a moan of his own, fingers tightening their hold as they slipped down to cup the curve of your throat. 

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the muscle swirling around your own, ensuring you tasted yourself just as he had. It was lewd, debaucherous, leaving you clenching around nothing as you sucked on his tongue. His fingers tweaked your nipple in between rolling squeezes of the tissue, you couldn’t help but notice his tongue moving in sync with his fingers. 

“Dallas-“ You panted, eyes fluttering open to meet his, recognizing the same carnal desire reflected in his irises. He nodded in response to your unspoken question, placing another chaste kiss on your lips as his hands hurriedly moved to unbutton his jeans. You smiled into the kiss, elated laughter bubbling in your chest as your hands moved with his, nearly tearing the fabric of his boxers in haste to have him. 

It was as if there was no camera, no incentive to keep you both pawing at each other besides the heavy lust hanging in the air, polluting your mind into nothing but a heavy daze of desire. Your cunt ached, desperate for some form of attention, but you refused to appease yourself - you wanted Dallas, and by God, you’d have him. 

“C’mon.” He urged, wetting his lips as he reached behind him for a pillow. You hardly understood what he wanted from you before he pushed the pillow beneath your hips, his free hand settling against the small of your back, gently guiding you over the bunched-up fabric. You could feel his fingers spreading your folds as you settled yourself against the pillow, face turned toward the camera. 

“So fucking wet.” He whispered, tone riddled with equal parts amazement and disbelief. A wet squelch sounded through the silence as he pushed his middle and ring finger into your cunt, a sharp hiss leaving him at the feeling of your warmth enveloping his digits. Part of you wanted to be pissed, to yell at him for not fucking you, but the way his fingers curved inside of you left you pushing your hips back against his hand. 

As soon as you grew accustomed to the feeling of his fingers writhing inside of your cunt, he pulled them free, using your arousal to lubricate his already leaking cock. You pushed your face flat to the mattress, arching your back in a display so riddled with desperation it made Dallas’s cock twitch. His hand grasped at your hip, steadying your trembling form as he swiped his tip along your folds. 

He was a performer, a natural before the camera. Each movement was fluid, and effortless in a way that made you pine for him. With a gentle push forward of his hips, he bottomed out inside of you, stretching your cunt in a manner that left you whining into the duvet. You could hear him steadying his breathing, hands tightening their hold on the flesh of your hips.

“Move-“ You ordered, or more so begged. “Please.”

He responded with a grunt and a sharp push forward of his hips, bullying the tip of his cock against your cervix. Once he was sure you had grown accustomed to his size, he pulled out, pushing back in rough enough to force the air from your lungs. You wove your hand down beneath yourself, circling your middle and ring finger around your swollen clit. 

“So fuckin’ tight-“ He rasped, right hand releasing your hip for a moment to smack at the plush of your ass, leaving a red imprint of his hand behind. You felt his hand smoothing up your back, fingers pressing into the muscle of your upper back before slinking around your shoulder. 

His hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pushing your jaw up, forcing your attention onto the camera in front of you.

“Look at the camera, doll.” He grunted, fingers tightening around the curve of your throat. “Let them see how you look taking my cock.”

You could only moan in response, the noise strangled due to his impeccably tight hold around your throat. You pushed your hips back against him, eyes bleary with tears from the combination of sheer pleasure and lack of oxygen. 

His thumb pushed into your mouth, pressing against the wet muscle of your tongue as he fucked you. You sucked at the digit, your moans concealed for nearly a second before his hips jerked against you, pushing his cock deeper into your cunt. You could feel your spit dripping down your chin and onto your breasts, breaths haggard the longer he kept you pressed back against him. 

Your breathy moans were no deterrent for him, his thumb against your tongue all but forcing your noises to be heard by anyone nearby. His free hand held you by your hip, his thighs slamming against yours with each eager thrust of his hips. You could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, deep enough to knock the wind from your lungs. 

Pleasure swirled within your lower stomach, settling heavy. The chase of your climax urged you to push your hips back, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing throughout your bedroom. Your cunt squeezed around his cock, each roll of his hips leaving you both breathless, hands grasping desperately at each other as your arousal built to a fever pitch. 

“Dallas-“ You whined, tone carrying enough of a warning for Dallas to trail kisses along the hollow of your throat in between rough groans of your name. Your hand slipped between your slick thighs, fingers finding home against your clit where you eagerly swirled your digits. “-I’m gonna cum.” 

“C’mon.” He urged as he smoothed his hand down your side, grasping the other side of your hip. “Cum for me, doll.” 

A broken, garbled mess of a moan tore its way from your throat. Your eyes squeezed shut as pure euphoria shot through your veins, igniting every facet of your being as your cunt spasmed around his cock. You could hardly register the curses that slipped past his gritted teeth, how his hold on your waist tightened as he fucked himself into you, pushing his cock deeper. 

Your hands reached behind you, blindly fumbling against his dampened skin as he continued to bully his cock into you, fucking you into mind-numbing oversensitivity. His hands moved from your hips, both lacing around your wrists, pulling you back to meet each eager thrust of his hips. Your moans broke off, well past incoherent, delving into the grounds of depravity. 

“Sound so good for me, doll.” He rasped, his voice mirroring yours in its spent nature. “Want me to fill your cunt up, huh? Don’t you?”

Without giving you a moment to reply, not that you could anyhow, given your fucked-out state, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your still spasming cunt. You felt his grip on your wrists tighten to an almost painful degree as he grunted out your name, his hips jerking with each mutter that fell past his lips. Warmth flooded your cunt, spilling down your inner thighs, leaving a mess beneath you. 

As soon as Dallas released your wrists you crumbled to the bedsheets below, deep, ragged lungfuls of air heaving your chest as your mind tried to remain in the present. Dallas kissed along your spine as his hands smoothed up your sides, muttering words of praise lost on your fatigue-ridden mind.

“Doll?” He asked as he shifted behind you, left hand moving to cup the underside of your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “You alright? Didn’t fuck you dumb, did I?”

You shook your head as you smiled, a small bout of laughter following the movement as you threaded your fingers through his, feeling your damp skin against your pulse point. His words didn’t shock you, if anything you might’ve been worried if he babied you for too long without jabbing at you - that was simply his nature. 

“Alright-“ He groaned, moving his hand from yours to pat your cheek as he moved from your bed. “Stay here, I’ll go get a washcloth.”

As the bed dipped from his departure you took a moment to catch your breath, stretching your legs out beneath you. You were sure you could’ve fallen asleep right then and there if it hadn’t been for Dallas’s return. 

The mattress dipped beside you and a cool washcloth wiped away at your inner thighs and cunt. Dallas cleaned himself off, tossing the dirtied washcloth to a nearby corner of your room before moving back to your side. 

“Turned your camera off.” He stated as he stretched his arms over his head, leaning back afterward to retrieve his nearby pack of cigarettes. You responded in a thankful hum, or what you attempted to make sound thankful. “Figured you wouldn’t want to use your legs for a while.”

Cockiness laced heavily in his words, but you were in no state to dispute it - even if you did, you couldn’t deny he’d fucked you until your legs were jelly. You glared at him through your tired eyes, taking note of his self-satisfied grin as he leaned back against your bedroom wall, a lit cigarette hung between his lips. 

“Ain’t arguing, are ‘ya?” He asked, to which you swatted at his exposed thigh with a stifled laugh. “Hittin’ ain’t denyin’.” 

“Shut up.” You responded, not bothering to hide your smile. “You’re too cocky for your own good.”

“Still ain’t sayin’ I’m wrong.”

A/N: I’m not dead! Or inactive! Life has put me in a chokehold recently, but lately it’s been better! Writing has been a sanctuary for me, and while I can’t do it as often as I could before, I still have more time than I did prior! So, thank you all for your continued love and support of me and my work! I hope you guys enjoy this, see it as a late Christmas present, or holiday gift thing.

[ididdedurmom]

I have an evil new hyper fixation

I have many head canons about Johnny and Dally if they lived. And I will tell you wether you want to hear them or not.

Johnny uses a wheelchair and forearm crutches, on good days he uses the crutches but generally he uses his wheelchair.

He’s really insecure because he feels like even more of a burden then before

At least one member of the gang is near him at all times (most of the time it’s Pony or Dallas), doesn’t matter where he is or what he’s doing, their with him.

Dally got super overprotective once they were both out of the hospital.

Dally will kill anyone who says anything negative to or about Johnny.

The gang started treating Johnny like he needed help with everything and that was really disheartening to him.

Darry did it a lot more than the other guys, he was like a helicopter parent.

Dallas didn’t like how they were treating Johnny and told them to let him do shit on his own.

They all had to get over their internalized ableism, it was especially hard for Johnny himself.

Dallas needs an inhaler since the bullet went through his lung, he feels really shity about it.

Johnny can still fuck someone up during a fight, especially if he’s on crutches, you should see the damage aluminum alloy can do Anyways, I’m done being cringe for now. I’ll probably do this again soon

[pumpkinsy0]

CAN WE PLS GET SOME PAPERCUT CHRISTMAS HEADCANONS🙏🏾 (and maybe some dallas)

i made this literally RIGHT after i woke up from a nap i came READY🙏🏽🙏🏽

•they all wear ugly christmas saeaters, difference for pony and curly though is that they also wear matching ones as per curlys request. bonus points if theyre naughty vs nice

•pony and curly is that couple who tries avoiding the mistletoe bc everyone is around and believe it or not they have a limit on pda depending on how many ppl there r, but some of the gang r trying to push them under it

•around christmas time is the only time the curti’s use their small fire place and curly would knock OUT when he was in front of it bc his house was rlly cold, and ponys always checking up on him bc he reminds pony of a lil stray cat seeking shelter. purring and all

•dally hates it when ppl start to celebrate christmas right after halloween, like RIGHT after, he hates the fast change, he would like a moment to himself after being w family, yknow to just calm it down. the curtis’ have a habit of doing that so they dont see dally for like a week when they start doing it

•once curly was planning on giving pony this small gift during this small party that woulda meant a lot and he was hoping to keep it to himself cause ewww showing feelings in front of others, but he just couldnt so he asked part of the gang to help him out in finding it in time

•im not denying that curly WOULDNT put a mistletoe on his belt to b cheeky, im just saying it would b above his ass so EVERYONE can kiss his ass. he even put the mistletoe upside down and said it was a reverse mistletoe where everyone above it has to kiss him. pony tried taking it off him before he walked into his house but curly has sticky fingers he got ts out of ponys drawers from his room somehow

•he got that idea from dally btw, he was being nosey and eavesdropped on him and tims “oddly emotional drunk eggnog w alcohol and kremas binges”

•darrys walked in on pony and curly making out under the tree before, at first they were just wrestling but it escalated. darry does NOT care, he wants it to stop IMMEDIATELY especially bc they knocked down a few ornaments w it

•curly and pony window shop a lot near the holidays (ponys totally going in there to steal what pony had his eyes on later in the night, its usually just postcards bc pony has a weird attachment to holiday postcards, they comfort him)

•dally and soda r the only ones who remember mrs curtis’ hot chocolate recipe. if sodas busy thats the only time u will find dally in the kitchen. he says its just for himself but give a couple minutes and hes gonna walk in the living room saying if anyone wants go get

•pony makes sugar cookies for curly and curly tried cooking sugar cookies at his place and he did but they dont look right at all, y does half of em have a dick and y is the cookie so big, did u cut out these shapes w a knife😭😭

•”ho ho holy shit u look great tonight” “please shut up already”

•ponys knit curly a scarf that curly uses a lot, even has his initials on it!! curlys jacket is already wind resistant but no harm in being more warm!! tim and angela tease him for it but t the end of the day hes gonna b warm asf and they aint, when he sees angela shivers he lets out a lil “hm,,,” but ends up giving it to her to share

•i like to think dallas and sylvia have their nice moments together, especially on christmas!! its her favorite holiday and dallys not a complete asshole he tried getting her SOMETHING

[curtis-corner]

Stand By Me (A Darry Curtis Fic) PART 2

Thank you so much for the fantastic response to part one!! Definitely helped me get motivated for this next part, which kicks off with a visit to the Curtis house.

Click Here to Read Part One

Part 2

You grip the steering wheel and let out a long sigh, glancing over at the foil covered casserole dish in the front seat. You had borrowed your dad’s car to bring it over to the Curtis house, but as you sat parked in front of it, you were overcome with nerves.

Johnny died, it was all over the papers about the hoodlum turned hero and your heart broke for the Greaser gang.

Dallas Winston died too. That wasn’t in the papers – just hushed, whispered gossip at the store. It broke your heart just as much.

It had only been a few days since the awful night, you hadn’t seen Darry at the store and something kept nagging you to do something, help somehow. Even if it was just feeding them for a night so they had one less thing to worry about.

“It’s a lasagna, not a landmine.” You mutter to yourself, and with that you find the courage to get out of the car and up the path.

When Darry answers the door, you nearly gasp at how exhausted he looks. His hair looked like he had run his hand through it a hundred times, the bags under his eyes were near purple and he was two days past a good shave. He says your name like a question and does a long blink, like he can’t quite believe it.

“I’m so sorry about your friends.” You slightly lift the casserole dish. Darry glances down at it then right back at you. “I brought you dinner. If you already have plans, you can stick it in the icebox, it’ll keep for a bit.” He’s still looking at you with a bit of a stunned expression and hasn’t said anything since your name. “Darry?”

“Yeah, uh, sure. I mean thank you.” He rubs the back of his neck and steps aside. “Come in.”

The house is as tidy as you might expect for boys, with worn furniture in the front room and a big fireplace that took over one of the walls. Behind the living room you see a small dining room that leads into a kitchen. You recognized the familiar sight of bills on the table and wondered if Darry sorted like you did: ‘pay now’, ‘pay next paycheck’, ‘pay a little bit and hope they forget you owe the rest’.

“Can I get you something?” Darry asks as you hand him the dish. “Glass of water, or maybe some coffee?”

“It’s alright,” you give him a small smile. “I borrowed my dad’s car, so I can’t be too long. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I heard some kids in the store say Ponyboy was sick.”

“He’ll be okay,” Darry glances at a closed door which you assume is where Ponyboy is while he sets the dish on the table. “Doctor is keeping him in bed for the week which is driving him crazy. But he needs to rest. We’ve got…we’ve got the hearing in a few days.”

I had read about that too: a hearing to see if Ponyboy would be charged in the Soc’s death, if he and Sodapop would be allowed to stay with Darry or be forced to move into a boys home.

“It’s obvious how much you love them. And how you’re tryin’ so hard to take care of them.”

“Yeah, taking care of them so good that Pony gets mixed up in a killing, and then I let him fight in a rumble.” Darry’s jaw tightens and he looks off to the side.

“Hey,” you take a step closer and, for the second time in a week, reach out to take his hand. “Anyone can see how much you love those boys. How hard you would fight for them to have a better life.” He turns back to face you and holds your hand tighter, bringing it a little closer to him.

“And what if it’s not enough?” He asks, so quietly you almost miss it. His eyes are a storm, full of pain and worry but you can see the smallest flicker of hope.

“Then you’ll fight like hell to get them back.”

You become far too aware of how close the two of you are standing, but you can’t bring yourself to step away. You look into his eyes, a gorgeous mix of pale blue and green. He is staring right back at you, but there’s something in his expression you can’t put your finger on. It’s almost like he is studying you, looking for an answer to a problem he can’t quite figure out.

The front door swings open and the moment is broken; you slightly step away and drop his hand.

Sodapop Curtis may have been younger than you in school, but the stories of his good looks and charms made it all the way up to your year. He’s stopped in the store a few times and you can’t recall a time when he wasn’t smiling. He looks tired now, nearly as tired as Darry, but the corners of his mouth pick up when he sees you.

“Gee Darry, I didn’t know we were having such pretty company over.” You let out a small laugh.

“Just came to drop by dinner. And I’ve got to be leaving anyway,” You turn to Darry. “It’s gonna be alright.”

“There you are seeing the good again,” he says, his eyes softening. You give him your best smile; the full one that your mom used to do when she was truly happy about something. You used to practice it in the mirror when you were little, hoping it made people feel happy.

“Just can’t seem to kick the habit. Bye Soda,” you say, letting yourself out the door. But before it could fully close you hear a faint “well I’ll be Darry, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you blush before.”

And then you’re blushing too.

--

“Gonna be out late tonight.” Your dad says in his usual gruff voice. “Got a big game down at Buck’s. This could be it.”

“Okay.”

This could be it. How many times have you heard that before? When you were younger, he would fill your head with ideas about being on the verge of hitting the big one. You used to dream about living somewhere with a big green yard where you and your mom could plant beautiful flowers. Maybe you would have a dog, a big golden one like you saw a lady walking past the diner one day. Your car would shine, you could buy new shoes, your mom would laugh like she used to.

As you got older the dreams started to fade as you realized ‘we’re almost there’ really meant ‘we’re further and further away.’

“You get paid yet?”

“Payday is on Friday.”

“We won’t be payin’ bills forever.” He says, but even he is losing steam on promising you about a future where you live large. You nod and look back down at your plate.

You eat the rest of the meal in silence and you think about a house a few streets away and wonder if they are eating lasagna.

--

Sheila is working the front counter while you unpack a box of laundry detergent in the home cleaning section. Shelia is a few years older than you and not exactly friendly, but she works a few hours a week so you can take a break from the register and help the stockboy get everything in order. Mr. Murphy used to do all of the unpacking himself, but he’s on the wrong side of sixty to be doing heavy lifting anymore.

The bells over the door jingle as you stand on your tip toes to slide the final box of Tide powder into place. You hear a noise at the end of the aisle and turn to see Darry Curtis walking towards you. ‘

He’s dressed nicer than you’ve ever seen him dress, but the real reason you stop and stare is the fact that he is positively beaming. You are so mesmerized by the sight you almost forget why he could be looking so happy.  

“Cleared of any charges,” he takes another step closer to you. “And they are staying with me.” You let out a squeal and, in a burst of excitement, throw yourself into his arms.

His strong arms wrap around you, bringing you closer. Your face is pressed against him muscular chest and you can smell his aftershave, and you know you must have smelled it before since you stock it in the store, but for some reason it smells loads better on Darry.

“I’m so happy for you boys,” you make no move to let go, and he doesn’t either. Maybe you should be embarrassed at literally throwing yourself at him, but something about being in his arms feels so right.

A slight commotion causes you to lift your head from his chest. You see Sodapop and Ponyboy at the end of the aisle, Soda smiling as wide as can be and Pony looking like he’s trying to hide it.

“I thought I told you both to wait in the truck,” Darry sounds only slightly exasperated. He drops his arms, but doesn’t step away from you.

“But you forgot to bring her this,” Sodapop holds out the clean casserole dish and you step forward to take it.

“Oh thank you, you didn’t have to bring it back-“

“Course we did, returning a dish means you’ll get more one day. And we loved your lasagna. Even Pony ate it, and he’s been living off soup all week.” Soda ruffles his younger brother’s combed hair and Ponyboy half-heartedly shoves him off.

“It was really good.” Ponyboy nodded and you smiled at him. It was still funny to see him with blond hair. “Darry almost stabbed Steve with his fork when he went for the last bite.”

“Alright, thanks for bringing the dish, get back to the truck.” Darry gives them pointed looks and you stifle a laugh. They run off with loud goodbyes and tou must not do a good job at hiding your amusement, because he gives you the same look. “They tend to exaggerate.”

“Sure they do.” You both share a smile, and he clears his throat.

“You work late tonight, right? It’s one of your closing days?” You nod. “I was wondering if I could drive you home on your late days. I don’t like the thought of you walking alone.”

“Really?” You ask. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I would.” He looks serious for a second, then his eyes get a mischievous twinkle. “Can’t have anything happen to my favorite lasagna baker.”

“Maybe next time I’ll make two.” You hear Sheila call for you from the front.

“So that’s a yes? I can pick you up at closing time?”

“Sure. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” Shelia calls you again and you try not to roll your eyes, but you think he can tell anyway because his small smile, the one that shows the dimple, is back.

He leaves and you glance at the three boys driving away in the truck as you walk up to help Sheila with the register.

“Those Curtis boys might be handsome, but they are trouble.” Sheila says, giving you a pointed look.

“I think you’re only half-right on that one.”

And even if she was fully right, you knew there was no way you could give them up now.

Notes: Next up is some conversations from these late night drives

[chaotic-starlight24]

Dallas Winston Backstory Headcanons Part 2

I genuinely feel bad for writing this much. But hope you enjoy it! Same warnings as part 1 (Check it out!)

Part 3, General Headcanons

These are my headcanons for his travels pre-Tulsa!

Dally hopped trains for a couple years. But never really found a place he wanted or had a reason to stay in. He didn’t trust anybody so he would mainly just stick to himself when he was in a town or city. If anyone tried to approach him he was quick to just try and act tough and sometimes even threaten them. A part of him convinced himself that he liked the open road, feeling the wind in his hair, seeing all the different people from afar, and the adventure. But the other part of him just wanted a stable place to live. Somewhere with people who will help him out without using it against him.

After everything he saw in NYC and from his own family, he was especially untrustworthy of adults. So when in towns, he wouldn’t purposefully try to talk to any of them. He would mainly swipe things from stores and hang out with the groups of kids nearby. He met a lot of nice kids and being so young he could fit in if he wanted to. He would play marbles with some kids, swing from rope into a nearby creek, your normal kid stuff. But those kids alway had to go home to their loving families. So Dally eventually started to disappear the day after. He hated the reminder that he truly had no one. 

After he was running around the united states for a while, he ended up in the midwestern area. He spent April of 1961 (12 years old) running around Indiana and while he was walking around Waterloo area someone pulled him into a building and yelled at him about why he wasn’t inside yet. He was basically sleeping wherever he could find a place, no matter the weather so he was really confused. Till the man who pulled him into the gas station shushed him and said to listen. Suddenly Dally could hear a train-like sound and what sounded like a giant saw cutting through the buildings nearby. The man got into position and pulled Dally into the back room of the station. Dally had been in a lot of bad situations, but man was this one of the scariest. The tornado took off the roof and tore out parts of the wall but did not hit the building head-on. But Dally has a large fear of tornadoes now. As well as just gets nervous during thunderstorms. (I know it’s stupid that he stayed in Oklahoma, but I’ll explain later)

Everything he owns is from other people. He swiped several things, but a lot of it is from people who either had extra of something or just felt bad for him. He sadly never saw that their intentions were genuinely to be kind and not to pull one over on him.

Examples: His leather jacket was from a black man in Mississippi who made it for him after he helped out on the family ranch for some extra money. (The last amount of money he would make before making it to Tulsa) A fabric satchel was gifted to him from an older lady after she saw him just roaming near her bakery. She said he was a good boy for keeping himself from stealing and he felt kind of bad since he did steal some goods. But he didn’t for very long because he needed to eat, didn't he?

The midwest was a generally rural area and mostly had small towns. So he did a lot of walking. He enjoyed it but when he made it to the South he felt at home. He didn’t know why but something just drew him in. Maybe it was just the vibes. He took part in several rodeos, drank a lot of sweet tea, and ended up with a full stomach pretty often. He would stumble into parks where super large gatherings were happening and just be given access to the table full of bbq and hot dogs. 

I’ve talked a lot about the nice people he met, but few were actually kind to him. Many would kick him out of places as they just believed he was going to steal stuff or cause trouble. So he eventually started playing that role. He always convinced himself it was a compliment and that he just looked that tough. But a small part of him felt upset that just because he was rough around the edges people would judge him just like that.

Overall, to those who were kind to him they could tell he was going to be a horrible influence on their kids and such but seeing that he was a kid they wanted to help him out. He just didn’t want to accept that help. Growing attached to anything always meant bad to him.

[reality-detective]

So here we go…

This is what I was trying to say, the enemy is here and what is happening or being shown in Israel whether it’s true or not is going to be coming to a city near you.

If you listened to President Trump’s speech today, he said there will be World War III, and it will be worse than just a tank rolling down the street.

War? Yes... Nuclear War? No

Do you understand the storyline yet? I have been warning everyone about this coming. If you don't think it will happen here in the United States, there is no help for you. I believe I have posted a list of approximately 17 cities that will get hammered and there will be others.

If my memory serves me correctly those cities are👇

Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Memphis, Houston, Chicago, Minneapolis, Detroit, Miami, Atlanta, Washington DC, New York, Philadelphia, Boston and Baltimore.

Other possible sites 👇

Dallas, New Orleans, Nashville, Charlotte NC, Cleveland, Milwaukee, Orlando , Tampa, Ft. Lauderdale, Phoenix and St. Louis.

If you live in these cities? Be prepared! Live by the Six P Rule... Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance. 🤔

I'm sharing what I know that's all I'm doing. I'm not asking anyone to believe me, all I'm asking is that you be prepared. It's better to have what you need and not need it than to not have it and need it. 🤔

I have been saying it's going to get real ugly before it gets better.

🛡️ The Storm is Coming! ⚔️

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Please do The gang+tim and culry with a s/o who likes to bake/cook!

YO my dad is actually a chef and I know how to cook and bake pretty well if I do say so myself so HELL YEAH i can do this pookie

GN!Baker/Cook s/o x The Gang + Tim n Curly Shepard

Ponyboy Curtis

-he loves it

-he’d never really had anyone besides the gang cook for him

-and tbh their skill is no where near yours

-when he hears you in the kitchen it’s like he’s a dog istg

-there in five seconds

-whenever he helps you cook he’s super precise over measuring

-“Y/n it says EXACTLY 6 cups of water”

-“Pony, it’s water for pasta. Eyeball it.”

Johnny Cade

-he’s not used to eating real good food

-or having people cook for him

-he’s so hungry all the time

-I fell like it suprises people, his appetite vs his size

-but he always says thank you when you cook for him

-sometimes helps you

-gets so flustered when you praise him

-getting a compliment from YOU on something he’s making is

-just honoring

Sodapop Curtis

-lol we already know this man in the kitchen

-you have to ban him because he makes such a mess

-he tried to sneak food coloring in the batter 💀💀

-and then runs away

-“SODAPOP CURTIS WHY IS MY BREAD BLUE?!”

-but you can’t stay mad at his behavior because he has the pretty privilege

-he’s lucky he’s cute tbh

Darry Curtis

-the best to cook/bake with

-forget grateful if you cook dinner so he don’t have to

-after working all day

-you two have a lot of fun in the kitchen

-and you swap turns cleaning vs cooking

Dallas Winston

-he would love eating your food

-but this mf is so impatient

-he sits at the freaking table whining like a kid

-I also think he’s mostly try to tease you

-like he’d come up behind you and wrap his hands around your waist and start kissing on your neck

-while you’re trying to cook something

-because he knows that it gives you butterflies and also distracts you from making something

-so you get annoyed and flustered

-which he loves 

Two Bit Mathews

-flour fights

-if you get him in the kitchen, you guys are not baking or cooking

-He’s goofing around with the ingredients

-Tries to stick his nasty hand in the batter

-“WASH YOUR HANDS TWO BIT!”

-he’s slightly worse than soda

-if you leave him alone with any finished food, especially cupcakes he’s eating it all

-and then tries to deny that he ate them all when it’s so blatantly obvious because he did not clean up 

Steve Randle

-micromanager 💀

-i’m sorry, but he’ll pretend like he doesn’t care

-and then as soon as you get something wrong he’s like

-“It said TWO tbsp Y/n not THREE!”

-You have to tell him to trust the process multiple times

-And he does not trust this “ process” nor you

-I feel like even if you’re the better baker or better cook he would still take over

-or try to take over 

Tim Shepard

-he definitely shows you off to his gang

-he loves the fact that you can cook

-he eats whatever you make in like three seconds

-Like it’s concerningly fast

-he doesn’t really help you out that much in the kitchen

- I don’t think this man can cook

Curly Shepard

-he pretends like he doesn’t care

-but he secretly loves it whenever you cook for him

-he’ll always utter a thank you

-I think that he secretly likes really girly dessert things

-Gotta keep it a secret or that fragile masculinity will shatter

-It’s like two bit whenever you make pink cupcakes

-he tries to eat them all

-You catch him red-handed with a smirk

-Tim Never lets him live it down

[hawkeyefierce]

Hi! My friend and I are getting into hockey and we’re kind of wondering what the vibe on Max Domi is?? I’m kind of seeing mixed messages about him so we were wondering why you like him so we can figure out what his deal is and if we should try to pay attention to him more on the leafs. Thanks!

hi anon!! just wanna say before i get going that i’m in love with this ask and you by extension for asking, and i’m sorry this took me so long!

now on to the propaganda (this is long i’m not sorry)

i’m obligated to preface this by saying i’m hugely biased as a Leafs fan who grew up in Southern Ontario. my dad has always been a pretty big Tie Domi fan, so liking Max just seemed like a natural continuation of that.

baby Max with Mats Sundin, then-captain of the Leafs. he’s just a little guy,,

born March 2nd, 1995, in Winnipeg, Manitoba, one month before Tie was traded (back) to the Leafs, Max spent his childhood in Mississauga, Ontario, roughly half an hour west of Toronto. at the age of 12, following some health complications at a hockey tournament in Detroit, blood work revealed that Max had type 1 diabetes and celiac disease. 

not the end of the world, clearly, but a pretty significant shock for a kid with aspirations of greatness. of course, he was able to manage it, with time, and when i finally read his book i’ll tell y’all more about it i promise.

these pictures make me emotional,, a couple of Domis, a couple of decades apart,,, except Max looks about 200% cuntier

anyway

scored a hatty in his OHL debut (slay). won consecutive OHL championships with the London Knights in 2012 and 2013 (double slay). selected 12th overall by the Phoenix (now Arizona) Coyotes, and signed a three year ELC (!). won gold with Team Canada at the 2015 WJC, and was named the tournament’s best forward (huge W). traded to the Montréal Canadiens in 2018, to the Columbus Blue Jackets in 2020, to the Carolina Hurricanes (via the Florida Panthers) at the trade deadline of March 31st 2022, to the Chicago Blackhawks in July of 2022, to the Dallas Stars in March 2023, and finally signed as a free agent to our beloved Toronto Maple Leafs on July 2nd 2023. he’s been on seven different NHL teams since he was drafted. 

sadly, as i’ve only been a hockey fan for one calendar year, i cannot provide much insight into his time with NHL teams other than the Leafs. i have ordered and am waiting for his book to come in so i can better rotate him in my mind, but i encourage anyone who knows more about his other teams’ lore to add to this post or send me what you know, so i can share it with the world. (pls i wanna know everything about him ever)

what i can say is that him and Mitch Marner were teammates on the London Knights for two seasons, (13-14 and 14-15), the second of which saw Max as captain and Mitch as an alternate captain. the season after, Mitch was named captain in Max’s stead. seeing them back together on the Leafs brings joy to my little London Knights heart.

now back to him as a Leaf. 

the current Leafs points leaders, as of December 30th, are as follows:

William Nylander - 48P (17G 31A)

Auston Matthews - 44P (29G 15A)

Mitch Marner - 38P (14G 24A)

John Tavares - 31P (11G 20A)

Morgan Rielly - 27P (4G 23A) 

Max Domi - 21P (3G 18A)

the first five of these are pretty much to be expected, but there’s my close good friend Max Domi right there too :) he’s doing his part, and even if he’s not the biggest scorer, assists are just as important and valuable :) if i have to kill y’all with positivity for this i will :) i love him dearly :)

also, he currently sits at 389 career points, and he’s nowhere near done, while Tie Domi earned 245 points in his entire career of 1020 games. nobody can say shit to me about him not living up to his dad’s legacy (Note: Tie also sits at third in NHL history for penalty minutes with 3515, but that’s a stat nobody will ever surpass. ever. the current PIM leader in the NHL is Corey Perry, and he only has 1392.)

and now i’m not about to sit here and pretend i know how to quantify the skills of an NHL player, let alone describe them in great detail. i do not. however, what i do know is that i love watching him play and make plays. in my eyes, he is a good player, and this is the Max Domi Propaganda Blog so if you want something less biased i can’t help you, sorry :’)

this love began in a preseason game against the Habs, on Oct 2nd. his first game as a Leaf in Toronto, he scores a tip-in against his former team, and he shrugs it off like NBD. for those of you who were following me at the time, you know i was not normal about it then and i am not normal about it now. i think about that celly every goddamn day. 

much to my great sorrow, they Leafed this game up and lost in OT 5-4. but either way, this was the moment that definitively kicked off the Rick eastoncowan Domishka era. 

and the only time Max ever seems to get a scoring chance, it’s either on a breakaway or from a spot that would have been absolutely NASTY if it went in. my mans only wants sexy goals, which is a stance i respect immensely. 

his first regular season goal… didn’t give him any points. it was beautiful, and a game winner, but since it happened in a shootout, it didn’t count towards his points totals. personally, i think this is bullshit, but now is neither the time nor the place for me to get into my issues with some of the NHL’s rules. (Nov 10, 2023, Flames @ Leafs)

Domishka bardownski SO winner,,, you were so beautiful and so unappreciated but i will never forget you </3

now.

Max’s first real goal as a Leaf.

for those of you who followed me at the time, you may recall this post:

a post that the Hockey Gods took to heart

and obviously i followed through. what do you think i am, some kind of quitter?

and, again, unfortunately, we Leafed that one up, too. we lost it in OT again, so still no Domi belt pic for Rick :(

now i’m not going to go back and gif all 18 of his assists, because i don’t think y’all care quite that much about Visual Proof of all of them. for your convenience, though, i did go back and track down whose goals he had assisted on, and the results aren’t super surprising IMO

Calle Järnkrok, Nick Robertson (assisted on 5 each)

Matthew Knies (assisted on 4)

William Nylander, Morgan Rielly, Mitch Marner, Timothy Liljegren (assisted on 1 each)

anyway, now for what is quite possibly my favourite game that i didn’t actually get to watch live.

December 16, 2023, Penguins @ Leafs, a decisive 7-0 victory.

it was also a 3 point night for Max, two of which helped to complete Matthew Knies’ Gordie Howe hat trick, the first since Daniel Winnik in 2015. but a goal and an assist are only two parts of it, the third being a fight. a fight which Knies initiated against John Ludvig after he knocked out yet another of Max’s front teeth with his stick. a fight which was Knies’ first ever. i’m still mad i didn’t see this happen live, but i’ve rewatched the game in its entirety twice, and the highlights too many times to count. this game sparked my undying love for the 23-11-16 line, which is a line i still pray keefe will bring back.

and so, we have a goal and a fight, and we have an assist to finish off the hat trick, and none of it would have happened without Max :)

and speaking of fights, Max has had a couple of em himself in his time as a Leaf so far. granted, if you ask hockeyfights dot com, he didn’t win either of them, but that’s not what matters. what matters is that he looked beautiful doing it, whether it was against Ian Cole (VAN) or Sam Bennett (FLA), especially with the fun added bonus of him flexing his full head of hair at Bennett’s bald dome. as an aside, i fucking hate Sam Bennett, so Max trying to fight him was… well it made me feel things. all i’m gonna say.

max’s third goal was also gorgeous. stunning. amazing. another beautiful bardown, the sound of which lives on in my dreams.

this is getting far longer than it really needs to be, so i’ll take a step back and give you my true, honest thoughts.

Max Domi has been a very helpful player for the Leafs since he got here. he obviously has the drive to play here and to play well here, and 21 points is nothing to be ashamed of. you know who else has 21 points as of me writing this? Alex Ovechkin. and now i’m not saying they are players of the same caliber, but Max is 6th on the Leafs in points, and Ovi is tied for first on the Caps. 21 points is still 21 points, no matter where in the standings someone is. Max was born to be a Leaf, and nothing makes me happier than to see him here and thriving on the team he’s loved since he was a kid. he takes shots, blocks shots, defends his boys and is defended right back in turn. 

and i would not be Rick eastoncowan if i didn’t mention that i think he is hot. like stupid hot. especially without his teeth. fuck, the heart wants what the heart wants, and damn if my heart doesn’t want this tiny toothless idiot. 

[paul-ster]

Want to read a fic I’m working on???

(Please say yes :(

Anyway, here it is! (It’s 4k words AND TW for graphic violence!) enjoy :3

The Calm Before the Storm

The sheets of the bed I was in were ripped off of me. Instantly, I curled into myself to keep myself warm from the sudden cold. Groggily, I opened my eyes to see who was trying to get me up.

Darry had a smile as he stretched his hands to me. I cocked my head tiredly to the side. What did he want?

Suddenly, Sodapop jumped onto the bed and started tickling me. I was laughing, trying to get him off.

“Soda!” I cried out as he tickled me. Soon, Darry joined in, smiling as he did so. It only took about two minutes before I caved and got up.

“Cmon Sodapop, let him get ready,” Darry said as he left the room, Sodapop following him. Before they left, Soda gave me a small smile that I gladly returned.

When I finally was ready, I went to the living room. Everyone was there; eating breakfast. Johnny greeted me as I settled with the hard eggs Darry made for me. Looking around, I realized this was almost how everyday started.

But something seemed off…

It was just like the calm before the storm. Something that was so normal, but so off? Almost like… someone else was here? I looked around and tried to pick out what seemed the most wrong.

There seemed to be another person on the couch; with a sinister smile. When I got a better look, I almost fell in shock.

“Hey Baby-Curtis,” the figure said. Curly was smiling at me deviously. The eggs I had didn’t seem as appealing anymore. Everyone else ate, even Curly.

They were acting like it was normal! Usually I knew that the gang didn’t mind when anyone else came. But this person was Curly Shepard! The hood that barely got out of reformatory…

I helped with the dishes, trying to ignore Curly as I did. I could hear him trying to make some small talk with the gang. The only person really responding was Dally. Although, his responses were more to get a reaction out of Curly.

It almost sounded like me and Steve bickering. I understood why Darry always hated it now. They sounded like little kids fighting, with “tuff” insults.

“Shut it you pee-head!” Dallas retorted. “You first poop face,” Curly yelled back. Soda spared me a look that told me he felt bad for me; the entire time we did dishes. Darry got ready in the background, getting his work shirt on and most likely trying to ignore the childish bickering as well. As I finished the dishes with Soda, I decided to get my stuff for school, ignoring Curly everytime he tried talking to me.

“What’s got his panties in a bunch?” I heard Curly ask the gang. “Because you’re here,” Dally retorted. I could almost hear the eyeroll that Curly did.

Walking out of my room, I saw Two-Bit near the door. “Ready your highness?” He jokingly asked me. I rolled my eyes before nodding and making my way to the door. Before I could make it, Curly had a grip on my bag, holding me back.

“Why don’t we walk together instead?” He asked. I looked at him, cocking my eyebrow up. Then, he leaned in.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Curlys voice was down to a whisper, but I could tell he was serious. I nodded, looking to Two-Bit, “I’ll walk with Curly.”

Two-Bit looked shocked for a moment, before deciding to just let me. Although, I could see the glance Johnny worriedly spared me. I walked out calling out a goodbye to Darry and Soda who were leaving soon too.

Curly and I walked, with him looking around. Then, he decided to take a detour.

“Curly, you know I gotta get to school,” I said annoyed as he tried to cross the street. He rolled his eyes, “Boring.” I stopped in my track and he looked at me.

“What did you need to tell me?” I finally asked him. He looked at me, almost as if trying to size me up. Then, he nodded.

“There’s some people after you.”

I stood shocked at that. Why would someone come after me? Not only was I a bit too nervous to talk to strangers, I knew the score, I couldn’t get in trouble. Curly nodded to me, “Some socs said they're planning on jumping the youngest of the Curtis gang.”

“What- why?” I asked him. He shrugged his shoulders, “Tim just told me to watch out for you. I think he knows something though…”

I nodded, “Tuff enough. I don’t need a babysitter; I can take care of myself.”

“Really? Can you take care of the group of socs that have been following us this entire time?” Curly said in a low voice, his eyes going somewhere behind me. I looked to where he was looking and I saw it. A blue Mustang was sitting, parked, across the street with everyone inside looking at us.

The sight made the hairs on my neck stand.

“Why hadn’t Tim told Darry?” I asked Curly, trying to derive my attention from the car. Curly looked to me, “Tim knows that Darry is too rough. If one of those socs called the fuzz on him it’ll be over for you.”

I looked at him incredulously. “Yet Tim is fine with you going to jail?” Curly gave a devious smile, “Damn right he is.”

“Just take my help Baby Curtis, if Tim sees that you’re out for dead then it’ll be on me,” Curly finished. I sighed, grudgingly agreeing to it. “So can we go to school now or what?” I asked, annoyed. Curly rolled his eyes, “What’s with the Curtis’s and school? I only understand Sodacans view on school.”

I rolled my eyes as we started walking to school, not even being bothered to correct Curly. Boy, if Soda knew how Curly said his name, he would beat Curly up in a millisecond. Even as I tried to walk in silence, Curly ended up rambling the entire time.

When we finally made it to school, I tried to split with Curly. When he said he was gonna look out for me; I didnt expect him to follow me everywhere.

I tried to make my way to Two-Bit and Johnny. They both spared me a sheepish glance as Curly continued following me. Curly greeted them louder than what I couldve.

"Hey Johnny, hey Mathews."

“Oh hey Curly?” Johnny sounded confused as to why Curly was still near me. He gave me a questioning look and I shrugged my shoulders.

Me and Johnny started at each other for a moment, talking to one another.

“Talk about riveting conversations,” Two-Bit joked. I rolled my eyes, drawing them away from Johnny. Curly slung his arm around me, using me as an arm rest.

“Ought you better get to class?” Curly asked. I rolled my eyes, “A hood telling a greaser to get to class. How riveting”

Curly gave me a lighthearted shove, “Get to class.” Rolling my eyes, I made my way to class. Before I could enter, Johnny stopped me.

“What’s up?” I asked him, trying to stand away from the door. Johnny gave me another questioning look again, “Why didya walk with Curly today?”

“Oh- it’s because-“

“-Because I’m his best buddy,” Curly interrupted me. I turned to him, shocked. Johnny gave us a weird glance.

“What?” Curly asked as if he did nothing wrong. I had to suppress an eyeroll as he did so.

When the bell rung, signaling class, Curly stalked off. Although, he only left after Johnny did. Sitting in class, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander.

Why were the socs after me? Why- why did Tim know? *How* did Tim know? Why is Curly keeping me from telling Johnny?

As I thought about the questions I had. While doing so, I felt pieces of paper hit the back of my head. For a moment I thought I imagined it. I looked around the room confused before hearing some chuckling.

“Boys!” The teachers reprimanded, “Pay attention.”

Instantly the chuckling behind me stopped. Even as I tried to pretend not to feel the paper, I couldn’t pretend not to read the notes put on my desk. The letters were sprawled out.

“You’re dead grease.”

It had the obligatory red crayon on the paper, simulating my blood. For some reason, it scared me. Usually I was fine with the bullying. Sometimes the teachers would stop it if it reached a certain point. But the teacher was oblivious as more and more notes were shoved on my desk. My mind read them, integrating them deep inside my mind.

When the bell finally rung, I was the first out of the class. To my disbelief, Curly was waiting for me outside the classroom. “What are you doing here?” I asked him instantly. He rolled his eyes, “Waiting for the kid I gotta babysit.”

Before I could retort, I was slammed- face first- into a locker. The air in my lungs was instantly knocked out of me as the locker met my chest. I turned around, watching as Curly decked the soc that slammed me.

The soc fell to the ground, holding his chest.

“Take that fucking bitch,” Curly said as he went over to me. He pulled me up, briefly checking me before dragging me to a bathroom. I could briefly hear a teacher being called for as Curly slammed the bathroom door shut.

It took me a while to regain my breath as I leaned heavily on the cool bathroom tiled wall. Curly watched me, his cool blue eyes on me. I tried to ignore how it made me stressed and instead focus on regaining my breath.

“Was that the guy?” I breathed my question out. Curly looked at me, cocking his eyebrow up. It took him a moment to realize what I meant. “Oh, yeah. Just one of the twenty that are after ya.” His tone didn’t help the fear steadily brewing in my chest. Not to mention that my face had a small bruise on it already. While looking in the mirror, Curly stood near the door.

“Tim got you on security too?” I joked as I pressed around my ribs. Nothing felt too off, mother other than the small bruise I could see forming. Curly laughed, humorlessly. “They didn’t get ya too hard in the head, did they?” Curly pushed himself off the wall and made his way to me. I shrugged, “I only got this bruise on my face.”

“Nothing broken?” I rolled my eyes, “It was just a locker and a small shove.”

“Speaking of that shove, ya think the teachers’ll be after me?” Curly asked. I thought back to the full hallway that had witnessed the entire thing.

“Wouldn’t be surprised, I’m sure that soc has probably already gone to the nurse. Why didya get ‘im in the ribs?” I found myself slipping into a “tougher” way of speaking as I asked. Curly shrugged, “Thought it’d be fair.” With a small eyeroll, I started to make my way to the door. Before I could reach it, Curly held me back. “Yes?” I asked, annoyed.

“Ya sure you’re good Baby-Curtis? Can’t have ya hobblin down the hallways all pathetic and ready to be beat up.”

“I’ll just walk with Johnny.” Curly gave me an incredulous look. “You’re gonna tell Johnny?” He asked me. I nodded, “Why wouldn’t I?” For a moment I could see some thoughts in his head. It scared me; I never knew Shepards could think.

“I don’t think it’ll be all that good if ya tell ‘im. Ya never know when they’ll be ready to switch targets,” Curly said. I thought about it too. I thought about how badly Johnny was jumped and the aftermath of that. He was already scared enough; I didn’t need to go and make it worse…

“Maybe you’re right…” I agreed with Curly. He put a lighthearted arm around me, “Don’t worry, I’ll be here for ya.” Part of me wanted to retort about not needing a babysitter, but it felt nice not having to worry about having to protect myself just this once.

We walked out of the bathroom and saw that the hallways were nearly empty. “Curly,” I groaned, rushing to my locker to savor the last seconds of passing period.

Curly loped right next to me as I got my books out. “Isn’t your class almost across the entire school?” He asked. I thought about my schedule- shit, he was right. I started to run to my class right as the late bell rang. Shit.

“Smell ya later!” Curly called out. My feet ran as quickly as they could, pushing my athletic limit. When the classroom was in sight, I slowed down and walked in.

I let out a sigh of relief the second I saw that the teacher wasn’t there. Socs were just talking amongst themselves, not even bothering to look at me. I carefully walked to my seat, in the back, and settled down.

At my desk, was a note. “Kill yourself grease.” It made me sick and I tried to wipe it off. After a while, the words finally came off in sticky ink clumps.

When the teacher came in, she took attendance and started math. My mind wandered through all the formulas while I wrote down notes. The second I looked down at my notes, I felt a paper ball hit my head- hard.

The note hit my desk with a soft bounce. Brushing it off, I continue my notes. Although, I could tell that it pissed off some different socs. Their laughs weren’t heard as I tried to work on the assignment.

It wasn’t until I felt a pencil hit me that I finally let them know I was paying attention. A girl next to me tried to scoot farther away as some of the notes even hit her. When one not was opened on my desk again, I read through it.

“*You’re dead grease. You and your greasy friend.”*

The note had a locker on it and it hit me why they were even angrier. I tried to suppress a groan of annoyance as I balled up the note and put it in my pocket. Finally, the bell rang, signaling lunch. All the notes I had accumulated were either on the floor, or in my pocket. Even as I tried to be the last one out of the class, I could see a soc ready to get me.

However, the soc was in a staring contest with Curly.

“Heard ya broke one of my buddies ribs,” the soc sneered. Curly tightened his fist, probably wondering where I was. “Heard yer buddy likes to go after smaller greasers. Was only fair I got ‘im back,” Curly retorted. “You wanna fucking go grease?” The soc demanded, stepping closer to Curly. Curly stood his ground, sizing up the soc. “I’ll go if you go, white trash,” Curly sneered.

I could see the crowd gathering around the two. Curlys side full of greasers and the Socs backing up the guy. There were no teachers to be found as Curly got his fist ready. But then, I saw someone walk to Curly.

Shit!

“Oh Curly, is Pony still in class?” I heard Johnnys soft voice ask. Curly looked inside the classroom, looking me right in the eyes. “Yeah, he is,” his voice sounded a bit relieved. Taking my chance, I walked out of the classroom and to Johnny. Johnny looked at the soc and then to me. Curly waved him off, “Go get lunch.”

I knew the rule, don’t ever leave a buddy behind. But, as I walked with Johnny through the halls, I saw the sheer amount of greasers ready. It looked like before a rumble. I walked with Johnny to the parking lot where Steve and Two-Bit were waiting for us. “Took y’all’s sweet time,” Steve retorted as he hopped into his truck. Two-Bit looked at me and Johnny with an eyebrow raised. I shrugged it off and hopped into the truck as well.

“Want to tell us the riveting story as to why it took yall so long?” Two-Bit asked jokingly. Johnny looked to me, obviously waiting for my answer. “I… uhh-“ my mind couldn’t think of a lie fast enough, “-I just took too long to get my things.” Steve looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Is that so?”

“Curly was also going to fight a soc in front of Ponyboys classroom,” Johnny informed the two. I panicked as Steve looked at me and Two-Bit turned around to look at me. “You didn’t get hurt didya? Don’t think the nurses ice will help if ya did,” Two-Bit joked. I rolled my eyes, “Naw, I think Curly will need the nurses ice though. ‘Less he actually thinks ‘bout what he’s doing.” Two-Big laughed and turned back around, “Shepards don’t think.”

My mind flashed to the bathroom. “I think it’s rare to see ‘em think,” I found myself saying before I could stop it. “Maybe it’s a superstition that something bads gonna happen,” Two-Bit joked. I caught Steve rolling his eyes at Two-Bits antics.

Then, I felt a small tug on my sleeve of my jacket. I looked to Johnny confused. Yet, I could see the questioning look he had in his eyes.

“What’s goin on with you and Curly?” I could see the question clearly in his eyes. He didn’t say anything but I knew. Still, I pretended not to know what he was trying to convey to me.

Instead, I flashed him a weak smile and turned back to look at Steve and Two-Bit. I saw us get closer to the DX. Two-Bit parked and looked to me and Johnny. I could see that Johnny was still confused and wanted to ask me about everything…

We got out of the car and went inside. The DX was empty for the most part. Only Sodapop was there, sleeping peacefully on the counter. I looked to Steve and gave a mischievous smile. He must've known what I was up to because he didn't do anything as I crept around to Soda.

I saw how peacefully Sodapop was sleeping. So, I thought it was time for some payback from this morning. Instantly, I slammed my hands onto the counter, “WAKE UP YOU DIRTY GREASER!”

Sodapop shot up and looked at me dumbfounded. It wasn't until he realized that it was me that he jumped over the counter and tackled me. I laughed as he threw me into a headlock while everyone else laughed. “Just had to give me a scare of a lifetime, huh kiddo?” Sodapop said.

I continued to laugh as I finally tried to detangle myself from Soda. He stood back up and made eye contact with Steve and Two-Bit. “Do y'all want some of this too?” He asked, punching his fist into his hand. They laughed and Sodapop jumped over the counter again.

I walked back to Johnny while Soda got us some drinks. Gratefully, I took the drink and went outside. Johnny stayed inside with everyone else, only giving me a look that told me he’d talk to me later.

I stood outside, drinking my Pepsi and enjoying the soothing atmosphere that came with it. There was still the small fear that a soc would come out of nowhere and attack me. But I pushed that fear down as I thought about the gang and even Curly. He **did** say he’d watch my back.

I looked around the parking lot, watching as a familiar blue Mustang came up. There were about three people in there, big socs. One caught my eye, and the second he did, he nudged his friend who started to stare at me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as they got out of the car.

I looked to the DX, watching as everyone else laughed about something. They didn't realize that I was in trouble! If I screamed, I thought, would they even hear me? My mind seemed to blank as the socs got closer, enclosing me in a half circle.

“Hey there grease,” one of them said with an overly friendly voice. I slouched, putting my hands in my pockets and trying to look tough. It didn't work as the other one continued. “Heard one of your greasy friends broke my friends ribs.”

“I also heard they didn't do shit to him,” another one added. I looked between them, only knowing two- Randy and Bob. The friend near them had spoken out of turn. Randy just stared at me, his hands also in his pockets. Part of me wondered what was in his pockets.

Was it a switchblade?

Just the thought of that made me even more scared. I tried to back up, only hitting the end of Two-Bits car. The socs smiled, stepping closer. It was only then that I realized that no one in the DX could see what was happening.

“H-heard your friends like to pick on kids not even their size,” I found myself saying. They started at me, Randy pulling out a switchblade. My eyes widened at the sight as he pulled it up. Shit shit shit shit!

“Mouthy aren't we grease? Maybe we oughta cut that mouth off to shut ya up,” Bob said. Randy nodded, stepping closer. Everything in me screamed to run, or even scream! But, I was paralyzed by fear as the other soc put something in my mouth.

“Maybe we gotta start by gettin’ ‘im in the stomach. Heard where he comes from there ain't much to eat. Some air oughta fill him up real quick,” The soc snarled. That gave Randy an idea as he aimed. My mouth was still covered even as I tried to beg for my life.

I choked for a moment before feeling a pinch. Did they- DID THEY JUST STAB ME?

My mind went haywire as I did too. I started screaming and trying to fight all of the socs at once. I threw my pop bottle at Randy, watching as he winced. Some of his blood trickled down to me, hitting the stab wound. Bob saw and slugged me good until all I could see were stars in my vision.

“Pony? PONY!” A voice distantly called out to me. I could barely see who it was but before long, all of the socs were gone. “Pony? Stay with me. Baby please stay with me,” it was Soda. My hands went to the spot that was bleeding on my stomach.

“Soda? S-soda I'm scared,” I whimpered. Soda tightened his hold on me, “Shhh baby, it'll be okay. Steve already called the ambulance.” I felt as Soda used my hand to press down on the wound. I cried out a bit, feeling some tears try to fight their way and fall.

I clenched my mouth shut and closed my eyes. “Pony? Stay awake for me, please honey,” Soda practically begged. I tried to nod, but felt the wound burn as he tried to put pressure on it.

There was someone right next to me as I tried not to cry out. They held my hand and when they spoke, I knew it was Johnny. “Pony? Glory, Pony?” Johnny frantically called out. His hand held onto mine tight as I felt some of his tears fall down.

I opened my eyes to look at him. His eyes were set on the wound in my stomach. I could tell that he wanted to be sick, but that he wanted to be there for me too. It was only then, that I realized that I was watching Johnny lose his cool.

Usually he was almost as tough as Dally. Or, he held a face that made him look as tough as Dally. Johnny could be a real hood if he wanted to. But at that moment, I realized that was not what he wanted. At this moment, he wanted me to be okay.

Even as I bled out in the parking lot of the DX, he wanted me to be okay. He held my hand, making sure that it didn't go cold before the ambulance came. “Youre a good buddy Johnny. My best buddy,” I whispered. His hold tightened as my eyes seemed to close.

[myhauntedsalem]

The Ghosts of Bonnie and Clyde

Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow were two of American’s most famous gangsters during the Great Depression. The two met originally in 1930 in Dallas, Texas.

They both came from desperate poverty and both had an utter contempt for authority. Bonnie, 19 fell madly in love with the 21 year old Clyde.

Shortly after their first meeting Clyde was sent to jail for burglary. Bonnie managed to smuggle a gun to him and aided his escape. But Clyde was recaptured and served a 12-month sentence.

Once out he hooked up with Bonnie again in 1932, swearing never to go back to prison. Bonnie knowing Clyde would probably end up dead vowed to die with him.

The couple spent the next 21 months on the road, with others who became known as the Barrow’s Gang. They quickly moved from petty thievery into bank robberies, kidnapping and murder. It is stated that Bonnie didn’t shoot anyone but that she would reload Clyde’s guns.

Their crime spree spanned the rural parts of Texas, Oklahoma, New Mexico and Missouri. The “yellow press” at the time romanticized the pairs’ exploits–to many Depression era Americans they became a badly needed form of entertainment.

But the reality was Bonnie and Clyde carried out ruthless bank and store robbers where sometimes they kidnapped or wounded their victims.

Clyde and various gang members murdered 13 people, two of which were police officers. The pair actually didn’t live up to their glamorized image, but they did leave a blood bath in their wake.

They managed to elude the police for almost two years but as their crimes became more violent law enforcement doubled and then tripled their efforts. The police did not take kindly to cop killers.

In the end one of their own gang members betrayed them. In May of 1934 the couple were driving a back wooded road near their hideout at Bienville Parish, Louisiana when police officers from Texas and Louisiana set up a roadblock near Gibsland, Louisiana. These five officers ambushed the stolen car Bonnie and Clyde were in and within minutes the car was riddled with over 100 bullets.

Bonnie got her wish, her body was found dead slumped over Clyde. The two bodies were towed from the site still in the car.

Before this was done however, onlookers managed to snip hair and other souvenirs from the bodies. One man even tried to cut off Clyde’s ear and trigger finger but the officers managed to stop him. Since their deaths many people claim their ghosts still remain.

The most active of these hauntings is at the site in the wooded area near where they were shot and killed in Louisiana. Today a weather worn marker is placed at the spot were Bonnie and Clyde’s car rolled off the road.

Many visitors to this spot have reported strange anomalies and mists showing up in their photographs. Most state that these strange lights appeared in just one of the many photos they took.

The car itself is also considered haunted by their ghosts. For 30 years this blood splattered, bullet-ridden V8 Ford “Death Car” as it is known, was a popular attraction at carnivals, amusement parks, flea markets and state fairs. It is estimated that it made it various owners millions of dollars.

Today the car is displayed in a room along with Clyde Barrow’s bloodstained, bullet holed shirt at Whiskey Pete’s Casino in Primm, Nevada just across the border from California.

Several people who have viewed the Ford over the years state they got a creepy unnatural feeling as they stood near it. Yet again, many people who have taken photographs of this car have picked up strange anomalies in their pictures.

One hotel that Bonnie and Clyde stayed at for several nights during their crime spree was the Baker Hotel in Mineral Wells, Texas. It is stated they haunt two specific areas of the hotel, the Brazos Room and the Ballroom.

Some feel their ghosts are still present because they are reliving fond memories. Others say that it is several objects the hotel owns that keep their ghosts active. For the hotel once had Bonnie’s 38 revolver on display as well as photographs of her and Clyde. The hotel also once displayed a poem that Bonnie wrote for Clyde.

Some state that a video of a ghostly woman wearing a long old-fashioned gown walking from one pillar to the next in the hotel lobby resembles Bonnie. Unfortunately this video has been made “private” recently.

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, January 8, 2025

What’s next for Canada after Trudeau’s resignation (Washington Post) Prime Minister Justin Trudeau announced his resignation Monday, saying that it’s time for a “reset” and that he is not the best person to lead the country into new elections if he is also fighting “internal battles. Trudeau said Monday that the Liberal Party will hold a nationwide leadership contest to select his successor. In the meantime, Trudeau added, Gov. General Mary Simon—the representative in Canada of King Charles III, Canada’s head of state—granted his request to prorogue or suspend Parliament until March 24. The next leader will inherit a long list of challenges: the high price of goods, a housing shortage, a Canadian public that appears to have soured on the Liberals after nearly a decade in power and a new U.S. president who has promised steep tariffs.

Thousands flee as wildfires burn out of control in and around Los Angeles (AP) California firefighters battled wind-whipped wildfires that tore across the Los Angeles area, destroying homes, clogging roadways as tens of thousands fled and straining resources as officials prepared for the situation to worsen early Wednesday. The flames from a fire that broke out Tuesday evening near a nature preserve in the inland foothills northeast of LA spread so rapidly that staff at a senior living center had to push dozens of residents in wheelchairs and hospital beds down the street to a parking lot. The residents waited there in their bedclothes as embers fell around them until ambulances, buses and even construction vans arrived to take them to safety. Another blaze that started hours earlier ripped through the city’s Pacific Palisades neighborhood. In the frantic haste to get to safety, roadways became impassable when scores of people abandoned their vehicles and fled on foot, some toting suitcases.

The next round of bitter cold and snow will hit the southern US (AP) The next round of bitter cold was set to envelop the southern U.S. on Tuesday, after the first significant winter storm of the year blasted a huge swath of the country with ice, snow and wind. The immense storm system brought disruption even to areas of the country that usually escape winter’s wrath, downing trees in some Southern states, threatening a freeze in Florida and causing people in Dallas to dip deep into their wardrobes for hats and gloves. By early Tuesday, wind chill temperatures could dip into the teens to low-20’s (as low as minus 10.5 C) from Texas across the Gulf Coast, according to the National Weather Service. A low-pressure system is then expected to form as soon as Wednesday near south Texas, bringing the potential of snow to parts of the state that include Dallas, as well as to Oklahoma, Arkansas and Louisiana.

Trump Raises the Possibility of Using Military or Economic Force to Take Greenland and the Panama Canal (NYT) President-elect Donald J. Trump refused to rule out on Tuesday the use of military or economic coercion to force Panama to give up control of the canal that America built more than a century ago, and to force Denmark to sell Greenland to the United States. In a rambling, hourlong news conference at his Florida estate, Mar-a-Lago, Mr. Trump also reiterated his threat that “all hell will break out in the Middle East” if the hostages being held by Hamas are not released by Inauguration Day, repeating the threat four times. “If they’re not back by the time I get into office, all hell will break out in the Middle East,” he told reporters. “And it will not be good for Hamas, and it will not be good, frankly, for anyone. All hell will break out. I don’t have to say anymore, but that’s what it is.” It was not clear how serious the president-elect was about some of his comments during the news conference. At one point, he suggested that his administration will rename the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America.

Meta is ending fact-checking and removing restrictions on speech across Facebook and Instagram. (WSJ) CEO Mark Zuckerberg described the change as an attempt to restore free expression on the platforms. He said that starting in the U.S., Meta will have a system, similar to X’s, that lets users flag posts they think need more context. The company will continue to target illegal behavior. Facebook’s content-policing expanded in the wake of Donald Trump’s first presidential election; now Zuckerberg is looking to align himself and Meta with the incoming administration.

Mexico drops migrants in troubled resort as it disperses them far from US border (AP) About 100 migrants from various countries wandered directionless and disoriented through the streets of the troubled Pacific coast resort of Acapulco. After walking for a couple weeks through southern Mexico with hundreds of other migrants, they accepted an offer from immigration officials to come to Acapulco with the idea they could continue their journey north toward the U.S. border. Instead, they found themselves stuck on Monday. Two weeks ahead of President-elect Donald Trump’s second inauguration, Mexico continues dissolving attention-grabbing migrant caravans and dispersing migrants throughout the country to keep them far from the U.S. border, while simultaneously limiting how many accumulate in any one place. Acapulco would seem to be a strange destination for migrants. Once a crown jewel of Mexico’s tourism industry, the city now suffers under the thumb of organized crime and is still struggling to climb back after taking a direct hit from devastating Hurricane Otis in 2023. “Immigration (officials) told us they were going to give us a permit to transit the country freely for 10, 15 days and it wasn’t like that,” said a 28-year-old Venezuelan, Ender Antonio Castañeda. “They left us dumped here without any way to get out. They won’t sell us (bus) tickets.”

Seventy really may be the new sixty for English baby boomers (Nature) A study examined trends in intrinsic capacity, a comprehensive measure of cognitive, locomotor, psychological and sensory capacities that was recently developed by the World Health Organization. The results indicate that older adults in England today seem to be experiencing far higher levels of physical and mental functioning than did previous generations at the same age.

Ukraine needs ‘realistic’ stance on territorial issues, Macron says (Reuters) French President Emmanuel Macron said on Monday that Ukraine needs to have a realistic position on territorial issues as part of efforts to bring about a negotiation with Russia. Speaking at an annual conference to French ambassadors to outline their strategy for the year, Macron’s comments were the first time he had suggested that Kyiv should consider a position beyond seeking to regain all territory seized by Russia. Macron reiterated that Ukraine’s allies needed to ensure that Kyiv has enough backing so that it can come enter any negotiations from a position of strength. “There will not be a quick and easy solution,” Macron said, referring to U.S. President-elect Donald Trump’s promise to end the war quickly.

Emeralds for Sale: The Taliban Look Below Ground to Revive the Economy (NYT) In a chilly auditorium in Afghanistan, heaps of freshly mined green emeralds glowed under bright table lamps as bearded gemstone dealers inspected them for purity and quality. An auctioneer asked for bids on the first lot, which weighed 256 carats. With that, the Taliban’s weekly gemstone auction was underway. These sales, in the emerald-rich Panjshir Province of eastern Afghanistan, are part of an effort by the Taliban government to cash in on the country’s vast mineral and gemstone potential. Since seizing power in August 2021, the Taliban say they have signed deals with scores of investors to mine gemstones, gold, copper, iron and other valuable minerals, like chromite. These buried treasures offer a potentially lucrative lifeline for a feeble economy. China has led the way in investments under its Belt and Road Initiative, an aggressive effort to spread Chinese influence worldwide. Russian and Iranian investors have also signed mining licenses, filling the void left by the chaotic U.S. withdrawal in 2021.

Strong earthquake kills at least 126 people in western China near Mount Everest (AP) A strong earthquake killed at least 126 people in Tibet on Tuesday and left many others trapped as dozens of aftershocks shook the high-altitude region of western China and across the border in Nepal. Officials in the region said at a brief news conference that 130 others were injured, state broadcaster CCTV said. State media reported that about 1,000 houses were damaged and 130 people were injured in addition to the deaths, citing the Tibet earthquake relief headquarters.

U.S. Eases Some Restrictions on Humanitarian Aid to Syria (NYT) The Biden administration on Monday lifted some restrictions on humanitarian aid to Syria but kept sweeping sanctions in place just weeks after rebel forces toppled the Assad family’s 50-year authoritarian grip on the country. The decision by the Treasury, which lasts for six months, allows humanitarian groups to operate more freely without running afoul of U.S. sanctions, including by helping to provide basic services such as electricity, energy, water and sanitation.

West Bank Settlers Hope Trump Will Back Annexation Dreams (NYT) Eliana Passentin delights in her house, which sits nearly 3,000 feet above sea level in a Jewish settlement in the occupied West Bank, with a view from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean coast. The dining room looks out over ancient Shiloh, the Israelites’ first capital in ancient times. But Ms. Passentin would feel even better if the area was annexed by Israel. Some of President-elect Donald J. Trump’s staffing choices have raised hopes among settlers that that could happen. Pete Hegseth, Mr. Trump’s contentious choice for defense secretary, went to ancient Shiloh for an episode of his “Battle in the Holy Land” series on Fox Nation. Mike Huckabee, Mr. Trump’s pick as the next ambassador to Jerusalem, has visited several times over the years and has argued that all of the West Bank belongs to Israel. Nearly half a million settlers and roughly 2.7 million Palestinians live in the West Bank. The Palestinians, and much of the world, have long envisioned the territory as part of a future independent Palestinian state, alongside Israel, and consider the Jewish settlements to be illegal. After the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas-led attack on Israel from Gaza, and with the prospect of a more sympathetic administration in Washington, settler leaders say they are confident that a Palestinian state is off the agenda. They also hope that Israel will extend its sovereignty over parts, or all, of the territory through annexation.

In Africa, Danger Slithers Through Fields (NYT) The snake struck 11-year-old Beatrice Ndanu Munyoki as she sat on a small stone, which lay atop a larger one, watching the family’s eight goats. She was idly running her fingers through the dirt when she saw a red head dart from between the stones and felt a sharp sting on her right index finger. She ran to her father, David Mutunga, who was building a fence. He cut the cloth belt on her dress into strips with a machete, tied her arm in three places and rushed her to a hospital 30 minutes away on a motorcycle taxi. As the day stretched on, her finger grew darker, but the hospital in Mwingi, a small town in Kenya, had no antidote for that kind of venom. Finally that evening in November 2023, she was taken by ambulance to another hospital and injected with antivenom. When the finger blistered, swelled and turned black despite a second dose the next day, “I understood that they will now remove that part,” Mr. Mutunga said with tears in his eyes. Beatrice’s finger was amputated. According to official estimates, about five million people are bitten by snakes each year. About 120,000 die, and some 400,000 lose limbs to amputation.

Antibiotic emergency ‘could claim 40 million lives in next 25 years’ (Guardian) Dame Sally Davies, a former chief medical officer for England, told the Observer that there is a real danger that routine procedures could become life-threatening thanks to the spread of bacteria that possess antimicrobial resistance. Antibiotics prescribed to chickens, cows, and sheep are a large part of the problem. “Winds blow over these patches of contaminated land or water and pick up bacteria and genes with resistance in them, then let them rain down in other places,” Davies explained. “About a million people die every year because of the spread of microbial resistance, and that figure will rise over the next 25 years,” she said. “It is really scary.” When she says “that figure will rise,” she means it—estimates put deaths at almost 40 million people over the next 25 years.

[pastelwitchling]

Hello there! If you’re still taking prompts would you consider writing something about how Alex brings Michael lunch at Sanders’ auto one day and gets totally distracted by a hot and sweaty Michael..? I was going to say maybe they decide to eat lunch in the airstream 😉 but then I remembered Dallas lives there now so maybe not hahahaha

***

Michael was just about nearing the end of his rope. He’d been bent over an engine that he was sure he’d fixed just last week, but somehow, Mrs. Bayson kept managing to break it down. She was a lean woman who always dressed like she was going to a fancy dinner party, but she seemed to have no other plans than to spend the day watching Michael slave away over her car in the scorching heat.

Michael had just barely managed to keep his shirt on because of the eyes that he always felt raking his body, but it was so drenched in sweat now that he might as well have not been wearing a shirt at all.

“Do you need a drink, cowboy?” Mrs. Bayson crooned from where she sat in the shade of the trailer, long legs stretched out in front of her. She held up her icy drink. “You can have a sip of my lemonade.”

No, thanks, Michael almost said, his jaw clenched. I think I’d rather drink lava.

“I’m good,” was all he said, not bothering to turn around or face the woman who’d been openly ogling him for the past several hours. Or minutes. He never knew. With her, time seemed to stretch on forever.

Then he heard a car drive into the junkyard, and he shut his eyes, exasperated. Every so often, Mrs. Bayson would invite her friends over so that they could watch Michael together, and he’d hoped today would be an exception. He was already exhausted, sweating, and he’d woken up to his bed empty because his husband had already gone off for work before dawn. He was not in the mood for anyone else stripping him with their eyes.

He kept working, hoping that whoever it was would ignore him. Then Mrs. Bayson breathed, “Wow,” and Michael raised a brow and looked up, wondering what could give the rich housewife such a reaction. As soon as he saw who it was, he understood, and a smile instinctively came to his lips.

Alex glanced at Mrs. Bayson as he approached Michael, hands in his pockets. “What’s up?”

Michael felt like a window had opened to his chest and cool, fresh air blew in. The tension in his stomach loosened at once, and he felt like he could breathe.

“What’re you doing here?”

Alex shrugged. “I finished work early and I missed you.” He said it so casually that Michael had to stop and marvel at whether or not this truly was his life. He found he’d been doing that a lot since marrying Alex. He saw him cast another glance at Mrs. Bayson, who was openly ogling them both now like they were some kind of buffet, and he shook his head slightly as if to ask, How long’s she been here?

Michael told Alex everything, so it only stood to reason that he would see Mrs. Bayson and quickly put together who she was. He wanted to weep with relief. He didn’t care who else was there, so long as Alex stood close by to protect him.

“Stay with me, will ya?” he murmured, glancing darkly at the woman himself.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Alex said, though his eyes had turned to Mrs. Bayson, this time narrowed in thought. He was watching her like she was a particularly annoying recruit that he was trying to figure out how to teach who was boss.

Mrs. Bayson must’ve mistaken his look, however, for admiration because she lifted a shoulder, her sleeve slipping down, and held up her glass.

“My drink is open to either one of you boys,” she smiled.

Alex chuckled darkly, in a way that he did not often do and which had Michael both turned on and fearing for whoever was on the other side of it.

“I don’t think so,” he said quietly enough that only Michael could hear, and then he turned to Michael, took his face in his hands, and crashed their mouths together.

“Mmh!” Michael moaned, startled, but let the wrench drop from his hand as Alex wrapped an arm around his waist and slid his other up Michael’s shirt. Michael gasped, and Alex took the chance to push his tongue in, tasting Michael everywhere. He pushed him against the car, their hips grinding, and Michael groaned, all the tension he’d had throughout the day burning down to lust and want and need in his gut.

Alex didn’t seem to care he was covered in sweat, kissing him like he wanted to lick every inch of him clean. Michael wanted to let him, lie down here and spread his legs and let Alex do whatever he wanted to him.

But Alex was already pulling away, a line of spit connecting their mouths, and he looked over his shoulder.

Mrs. Bayson was no longer smiling, her scowl stretching wide and Michael could’ve sworn he even saw her say, What a waste.

Alex stepped back casually, but not too far away, returning his hands to his pockets. Mrs. Bayson no longer seemed in the mood to watch her car get fixed, and she had someone pick her up with a demand that the engine be ready by tomorrow.

Michael turned to Alex, grinning, and Alex gave him a wink. “All that to save me?”

“That,” Alex shrugged, and stepped closer, running his finger over Michael’s lips, “and I don’t like anyone else staring at my husband’s ass.”

Michael bit his lower lip, eager. “You jealous, baby?”

“Jealous of what?” Alex scoffed, pulling Michael in again and dragging a hand up his shirt, bunching it up to his chest. “Nobody else gets you but me.”

Michael nodded, hazed and in love. “Nobody else,” he repeated almost dreamily.

Alex grinned. “Good boy.”

***

Guys, I'm losing my mind. When I first saw this prompt in my inbox, I knew I'd already written it MONTHS ago. BUT I searched my one-shot collections and couldn't find it anywhere! So either the search term feature no longer works on ao3, or I just wrote this fic but never posted it. For that reason, I'm posting it here today. If I really did already post this to the collection, then I owe you another fic this week. As it stands, this is the last Monday of Ramadan anyway, so hopefully things get better writing and posting wise next week.

Happy malex Monday ❤

[flowersonpebbles]

Dallas Surana

The Hero of Ferelden, Grey Warden-Commander:

The Fifth Blight was a true Blight despite some people's theories and arguments and it began in the swamps of the Korcari Wilds on the southeastern border of Ferelden in the year 9:30 Dragon. Believed to have woken the Archdemon, an Eluvian had been activated by Dalish hunters and thus it all began... 

The Hero of Fereldan, Dallas Surana, belonged to the Circle of Magi in Fereldan, residing in the tower at Lake Calenhad since he was 6 years old. Before the Circle, Dallas lived on a farm with humans, working as a farmhand until his first burst of magic blasted back everything and everyone around him. He ran in fright and Templars found him. He went with them in hopes of not hurting anyone else. 

First Enchanter Irving had highly recommended Dallas to Grey Warden Commander Duncan shortly after his Harrowing. The Circle was forced to give Dallas to Duncan after he forced the Right of Conscription upon Dallas whom had aided a blood mage in escaping though. Duncan was later informed that Dallas had not thought Jowan to be a blood mage. Duncan was still impressed that he would aid a friend so passionately. 

King Cailan Theirin was swift in responding to the darkspawn threat, gathering the royal army, every Grey Warden in his country, and sending a call for aid to the Fereldan nobility and wished to have the Orlesian chevaliers and Grey Wardens there as well but they would not arrive on time. The assembled armies laid a trap in the ruins of Ostagar, hoping to crush the force before it reached civilization. But they failed.

Darkspawn overran the defenders of Ostagar and decimated the king and his army. Loghain and the soldiers under his command to flank the enemy had survived because of his tactical retreat only. The darkspawn continued their advance into Ferelden unopposed. Only two Grey Wardens, Alistair Theirin and Dallas Surana, managed to escape the slaughter. And only because of their mission for the Joining of Dallas they came into possession of ancient treaties, which compelled all the races to join arms against the massing horde.

The Wardens were saved by Flemeth, a witch of the wilds, and her duaghter, Morrigan. Together, Alistair, Morrigan and Dallas journeyed to Lothering. On the way there, Dallas had found a mighty hound to aid them, he named him Griffin but Alistair called him Barkspawn. 

In Lothering, they met Leliana and Sten. They recruited the well spoken archer and strange qunari warrior gladly. And helped the people of Lothering best they could and encouraged the citizens to flee. They also met a merchant, Bodahn Feddic, and his adopted son who could make and do enchantments, Sandal, who accompanied them on their journey. 

The surviving Wardens sought Arl Eamon, uncle of the late King Cailan, in the hopes of mustering troops from the Ferelden nobility. Upon arriving in Redcliffe they learned that the arl had fallen ill and was near death. His knights had gone in pursuit of the fabled Ashes of Andraste, Eamon's only hope for a cure, and the village surrounding the Keep was beset by a host of animated corpses. The heroes helped the townspeople and Taegin through the night's battle. The Wardens found that Eamon's son, Connor, had been possessed. And Jowan, Dallas' friend who escaped, was the one who poisoned Eamon. He trusted Jowan to look after the castle whilst they go to the Circle to find help for the boy. Dallas himself stopped the demon behind the undead with help of the Circle mages. Once the people of Redcliffe were safe, they joined the search for Eamon's cure.

No one is certain if the Wardens actually located the final resting place of Andraste, but whatever they found saved the arl of Redcliffe. It was later known as The Temple of Sacred Ashes where the Conclave had been held before it's destruction. The town nearby, Haven, the first base of operations for the Inquisition thereafter. 

The Wardens made their way to Kinloch Hold, home of the Ferelden Circle and Dallas, and conscripted the mages after helping them fight blood mages and demons. They recruited Wynne, a powerful spirit healer, into their ranks. 

In desperation to find more allies, the Wardens journeyed into the Brecilian Forest, seeking the Dalish. The elves, too, joined the growing army after the Grey Warden helped them solve a dispute against Werewolves. Dallas had been very intrigued by the bloodwriting and traditions of the Dalish elves. 

Into the Deep Roads the surviving Wardens went, searching for Paragon Branka in hopes she could settle the unrest in Orzammar and unite the dwarves in the battle against the Archdemon. Branka had gone mad and the Wardens worked with another Paragon: the legendary Caridin to not only stop Branka from misusing the Anvil of the Void once more but also forged a crown that ended all question of succession. 

Bhelen Aeducan was crowned king of Orzammar, and the dwarven armies marched for the surface.

Despite their successes, though, greater challenges were yet to come.

Upon his recovery, Eamon Guerrin called for a Landsmeet and he and the Wardens traveled to Denerim.

There, they had to save Queen Anora from Arl Howe, free the city elves from being sold into slavery that was permitted by Loghain and help various unrests in the city. 

The gathered lords and ladies of Ferelden found Teyrn Loghain guilty of a number of crimes. He was sentenced to join the Grey Wardens to atone for his deeds. Furthermore, the Landsmeet bore witness to the betrothal of Queen Anora to Alistair Theirin, the lost son of Maric and a previous Grey Warden mage, Fiona.

The Archdemon clashed with the allied forces at the city of Denerim and was eventually slain, but at terrible cost. Much of the city lay in ruin. Dallas, who rallied the armies was named the Hero of Ferelden and accorded the highest honor. The first Grey Warden to have survived slaying an Archdemon thanks to his good friend, Morrigan. But now he had a son he'd never meet, as to Morrigan's wishes. 

The Fifth Blight ended before most of Thedas knew it had begun. But it left a terrible wound on Ferelden. The losses suffered at Ostagar and Denerim greatly compromised the security of the kingdom. Southern Ferelden from the Korcari Wilds to the edge of the Bannorn are, to this day, a wasteland. It's uncertain how far the ripples from this event shall travel, or what waves it has already stirred.

After defeating the Archdemon and ending the Fifth Blight, the Hero of Ferelden took up the mantle of Warden-Commander. He began the task of rebuilding the Order in Ferelden, serving with honor until his disappearance several years later.

The Inquisition has discovered that he has gone west in search of a way to cure the Calling. For he wished to die old with his beloved Zevran. 

—From A Report of the Fifth Blight and The Hero Warden-Commander of Ferelden, by Flowers on Pebbles

"I wish that I had helpful information regarding Corypheus, but due to my own limited training during the Blight, I know less of ancient darkspawn lore than most Wardens do. I am engaged in a search of my own. All Grey Wardens who do not fall in battle eventually fall to something known as the Calling, a magic that preys upon our own connection to the Blight and the darkspawn. Rather than such foul magic eventually leading to my death, I have determined to find a way to negate this Calling and save all Wardens from its effects.

As I have little useful information to offer, please accept the accompanying gifts instead. If, in my quest, I find anything that may be of use to you in your fight against Corypheus, I will send it to you immediately.

Part of me wishes that I could help your Inquisition more personally because the danger of Corypheus and the Breach approaches the threat of even another Blight. Regardless, Zevran and I have our own battles to fight, and I can only offer my confidence that you have matters well in hand.

Yours, Warden-Commander Surana of Ferelden"

[1800nosleep]

bird song hcs + pics pt 2 !!

alr you know the drill, lets go man

once again these pics are not supposed to look like the characters !! and some songs are not supposed to be time accurate !!

"dal! put your shirt back on! "

"lyd its hotter then the depths of hell, i am not putting my shirt back on" 

hot summer days when it's humid are lydies least favorite days. the hot sun is always beating down on her and being trapped in a house or car is the last thing anyone wants to do, especially not when pools are all on the soc's territory, dal, and lyd sat outside hoping that something up above would make the heat stop

all of the gang slept in verano's new van, they were traveling to a concert and the concert was in northern texas so it was a decent drive down. darry and ronnie switched driving for a few hours while the rest of the gang either slept or chatted quietly. johnny and pony slept in the middle row with dally and lyd while soda, two bit, vinnie, and maude sat in the very back row.

the quiet sounds of the rolling stones played in the front row as darry and verano spoke about the trip back.

"lyd wake up, i made breakfast"

"hm? what?"

"i made hotcakes"

lydie got up and followed maude into the kitchen where vinnie sat, drinking his morning, black coffee. the table was set up, with syrup, plates, cups, and silverware

70s! vinnie braiding his adopted daughter's hair as maude made them dinner. jimi hendrix played in the background as incense burned.

"quit movin'! you're gonna make me fuck it up"

"sorry vin"

lyd and vin always go for car rides when they are upset, pissed off, or if they just need to talk. vinnie gets off of work and picks up lyd for a drive. vinnie listens to lyd rant and vice versa. their homelife being as terrible as it was, they only had each other when they were growing up, so they always took care of each other.

70s! dal and lyd moved back to NY, while on the trip, lyd turns on the radio and your song by elton john is playing.

"I don't have much money, but boy if I did," lyd sang as dal rolled his eyes and kept driving, "I'd buy a big house where we both could live" lydie looked over at dal as the song continued.

"if i was a sculpture, ha, but then again no," dallas muttered, as lyd smiled, "or a man who makes potions, in a traveling show."

"i knew, you knew the song," lyd said softly as the song continued without the two singing.

once johnny got old enough to leave his home, he moved in with dal and lyd in upstate ny, and he finally got out of tulsa. he rode a greyhound down to nyc and rode a bus upstate. he surprised the two and they took him in. their house is a small little bungalow with a few bedrooms. pony decides to go to SUNY near the bungalow. so he's near johnny. soda and darry visit them all the time, along with two bit and steve.

okay!! thanks for reading and please send in your own hcs !! mwah mwah !!

[onycho]

Ayyyy does anyone living in/near Dallas wanna buy some furniture off me before I move? I have a dining table and a side table/media stand