#dalton moms

[shan0blight]

AHHH IT CAME!!!! MY DEAD POETS SOCIETY COLLECTION GROWS!!!

[pencileraser1]

dead poets society driving headcanons but they're all terrible drivers

(and if they also all lived somewhere with similar roads to where i learned how to drive bc i can be more specific that way. also im not a car guy so all the cars are from real people i've met)

inspired by me learning to drive and being bad at it

neil: drives a stick shift and isn't very good at it. he saved up money working to buy a shitty corolla from probably just some guy and was like yeah i can totally drive a stick lol how hard can it be when asked about that. the guy was like uhh probably pretty hard standard shift is famously not easy to learn. and he was like itll be fine dont worry about it. every time he switches gears it feels like the car is falling apart. he has gotten stuck trying to start the car stopped on a slight uphill incline for like 10 minutes multiple times. half the time when he starts the car he does it way too fast, and he constantly kills it when coming to a full stop. he once flipped his car over when going down a windy road. he is very attached to his car despite this, named it something like gertrude. its constantly full of shit and has a ton of doodads hanging from the rearview mirror

todd: will not drive above 25 mph unless he absolutely has to when around other cars. always takes backroads if he can because he is terrified of the freeway. hell drive at the speed limit on the highway but is gripping the steering wheel for his life the whole time. at the same time drives mountain roads where theres no cars at full speed. goes through windy roads barely braking. scares the shit out of everyone in the car. never comes close to crashing despite everyone thinking they're gonna die. he drives a tiny hatchback that probably used to belong to jeff. hes the only one trusted with neils car despite not knowing how to drive stick

charlie: constantly driving over the speed limit, not looking where hes going, blasting music so loud you cant think. hes always like. i dont understand why everyone is scared to drive with me lolll and then goes 90 in a 25. for some reason. his parents bought him a jeep gladiator

knox: knox is constantly getting lost. has absoutely no sense of direction. will get lost on roads he has been on his whole life. he also forgets to use his turn signal constantly. insists on never looking at a map despite having no clue where he is for as long as possible. it is infuriating to everyone else in the car.

cam: drives a mini van. would be a decent driver if he knew how to come to a gradual stop. unfortunately he just slams the brakes like 75% of the time. he drives with one foot on the gas and one foot on the brakes which does not help. he is usually the main one driving the poets places when they're in a group since he has the most seats. when they have more than 7 someone always wants to sit in the trunk, which cam is vehemently against. he's generally just very tense while driving.

pitts + meeks: pitts drives an old truck, a smaller one that only has jump seats in the back. meeks doesnt have a license so pitts drives him everywhere. because of this if anyone wants pitts to drive them anywhere they either have to take the jump seat or sit in the bed cause meeks automatically gets the passenger seat. as far as everything else goes pitts is ok ish at driving, if kind of jerky, it mostly just sucks to get a ride from him cause he doesn't really have any room. meeks doesn't really want to get a license for several reasons and since he is conveniently always with pitts he has decided he just won't for as long as possible. ideally he never will, and will just use public transit if pitts isn't there.

[bosqueinvisible]

give dalton his gay uncles

[rvstyartstar]

⁠✷Lucky luke hcs !!

•is a polyglot thanks for his nonstop traveling.

•got into the lawmen business in his early 20s

•has a incredible long-term memory but will lose track easily (same).

•a really good whistler, can whistle literally anything.

•is acesexual (and I'll Die with this hc!!) and doesn't really have gender preferences.

•he's oblivious to any and all romantic interests someone may show to him, even in childhood didn't have any real crushes.

•gives compliments sometimes in a way that sounds like flirting and will leave you with mixed ideas, like if someone spotted something/someone he's looking for,he'd later say:

" god had made very pretty eye on you"

And mean it as a "you have good eyesight"

•is touch starved but he doesn't know for the life of him how to ask for a hug from another person.

•if he ever met a fan of his he'd be like if received a complement he'd "aww thank youu ,if you work hard you'll be a legend you slef" and probably just leave after cause he's just awkward like that.

•its kinda growing on me him being mixed (native American-white) bc of the 2009 movie.

•this ones silly but i like to imagine him and jolly helping eachother to sleep (sing, tell stories to eachother ect..)

•doesn't see a person as "good" or "evil" everyone has both of them balanced to him including himself.

•im sorry y'all but he would SMELL

"bu-but he showers"ONCE EVERY TEN ISSUES.

but maybe his scent(in days where the sun don't boil) is a mix of daisies, gunpowder and lemonade idk.

•his relationship with the Daltons is basically "cant let society know i fw them" lol he won't admit he enjoys their company and neither would they.

•is a victim to calamity Jane's playful punching while telling a joke.

•ever since he has been going back and forth with the Daltons they have grown onto him bc they unlike most the outlaws he met don't seem scared of him (or anything for the matter)

•when the way to the prison took to it actually surprised him that they (expect joe) opened a conversation with him when he was still in his early days as a lawman.

•he's still in touch with Martha (do NOT @ me) would visit and chat with her if he's close by the town, they eat cookies and gossip.

•if your actually ACTUALLY close to him you'll be receiving telegram from every once and then.

Well that's if y'all got some headcanons of this cowboy GIVE IT TO ME!!

[eightyones]

i was going to make a post saying something like logan sargesbg should’ve been rushing a frat or whatever and then i remembered the letter he wrote before the lvgp and fell to my knees. like no he is where he needs to be actually

[notagaybastard]

I'm not sure if already posted this but I don't care because it was too funny

I was watching dps with my mom (her first time watching) and then that scene where Knox, Meeks and Charlie go to Neil's dorm start.

A couple seconds later, nothing really happened and my mom just looked at me and said "Is he a queer?"

"Who?"

"This one" *points at Charlie*

"...No..."

"Well he looks like a fag"

[peacesmith]

uhhhhh big dalton + little dante

[thebiggestplantgirlno15]

[needleworm]

my thangs♥️

[desire-mona]

chaos screaming, chaos creaming

[shan0blight]

OMG MY MOM GOT ME THE FIVE CENTURIES OF VERSE BOOK WITH MY NAME INGRAVED INTO IT FROM DEAD POETS SOCIETY AHHHH!!!!!!!

I GOT IT OFF OF ESTY AND ITS A NOTE BOOK SO IM GONNA WRITE ALL THE POEMS THEY READ IN THE MOVIE IN IT!!!!!!!

IM SO EXCITED!!!

Link: https://www.etsy.com/listing/1019576761/

This addiction to dead poets society is getting bad ngl 😭 but idc🤷‍♀️cause hot people watch dead poets society

[simonxriley]

OCs as tragic Greek figures.

I was tagged by the wonderful @corvosattano to take this uquiz for some of the disaster children. Thank you! 💜

Tagging @playstationmademe @nightwingshero @detectivelokis @leviiackrman @sstewyhosseini @hoesephseed @chuckhansen @phillipsgraves @cameoninja @thomrainer and anyone else that wants to do it!!!

Cyparissus

young cyparissus, innocent cyparissus, it was all only an accident. your stag, finding relief from the relentless summer sun of Apollo under the forest's trees, did not deserve the cruel wound of your javelin stuck within him, and you did not deserve to inadvertently be the cause of his death. but grief does not care about intent and accidents, does it? even now, your cypress trees cry your mourning tears.

Odysseus

you are that which men dream to be: strong, courageous, and noble, with more intelligence than you know what to do with. and, like all men, you do not account for your overabundance of pride. you long for your name to be wrapped in glory and honor, and your journey home is only made longer by your search for fights to win and monsters to trick.

Cyparissus

young cyparissus, innocent cyparissus, it was all only an accident. your stag, finding relief from the relentless summer sun of Apollo under the forest's trees, did not deserve the cruel wound of your javelin stuck within him, and you did not deserve to inadvertently be the cause of his death. but grief does not care about intent and accidents, does it? even now, your cypress trees cry your mourning tears.

Bellerophon

chimera-killer, pegasus-tamer, eater of your own soul: icarus flew too close to the sun, but you flew too close to gods who would prefer to remain untouched. could you not find enough joy in being a hero, a husband, a father and a king? olympus will never accept your presence upon its mountaintop, so best quit while you're ahead, before your horse bucks.

Achilles

best of the greeks, eager for honor, and quick to rage: you could easily live content and easy until you're gray-haired, but glory and fame call for you just beyond the horizon. you are not prone to self-reflection and trip into the same pits of wrath at bruised pride over and over. are you truly ready to sacrifice everything so that your name will be immortalized? is your fury what you want to be remembered for?

Achilles

best of the greeks, eager for honor, and quick to rage: you could easily live content and easy until you're gray-haired, but glory and fame call for you just beyond the horizon. you are not prone to self-reflection and trip into the same pits of wrath at bruised pride over and over. are you truly ready to sacrifice everything so that your name will be immortalized? is your fury what you want to be remembered for?

[golden-lovers]

if there's anything that'll make me cry it's eddie kingston and logan sargeant's the players' tribune articles

[satoshy12]

A End of 20s Jazz gave her boy a look:" Why are you alone? We wanted a family day." Damian looked confused. " But I am not..." Jazz:" We did plan to visit the Zoo today, so I came in already." Damian did have a 180° turn:' I can talk to my father later.'  As he joined the scary Redhead Mom in the SUV, he saw many clones ? there. No wonder she thought he was one.  Well, Damian isn't sorry, but he likes spending time with siblings Darren, Darius, Damon, Daria, and Dalton. It's much better when your clones don't try to kill you. And Uncle Daniel and Ellie were nice too, but when will "Mom" notice he isn't one of hers?  Jazz already did notice she took the wrong child, but then again, this isn't her first surprise adoption; how do you think she got so many babies? She found them and just took them with her, and as long as he doesn't want to leave, he can stay. 

Damian stayed many, many days with them, till Bruce found Damian again. 

A/N Jazz is around 28-30 year old.

[orbiterfr]

I sometimes forget that dps is a film from 1989 cause why did my mom just tell me her college friend used to be obsessed with charlie dalton

[toxicanonymity]

road house - scream au

2k, neighbor!elwood dalton x f!reader. I8+ cumfest, piv, mild somno, ref to dubcon.

Could refer to a random ghostface or Rat in a cage.

_____________________________________________

After you let ghostface put his dick in you, he wanted more. You found yourself thinking about it too, but you were scared of him. He had killed one of your friends, and what you did with him was a mistake. You wanted him to leave you alone.

You had a close call one night at your apartment when you saw his cloaked form rush by your window. Seconds later, there was a knock at your door that made your heart jump.  But when you looked through your peephole, it was your neighbor, Dalton, a retired MMA fighter. Massive, sculpted, veiny arms sticking out of a sleeveless hoodie. There was no one you'd rather see. Not just because you had a little crush on him, but because he could keep you safe better than anyone.

He asked to borrow some olive oil and offered to make you dinner in return. You accepted. You wanted to tell Dalton that ghostface was after you, but you were afraid you'd sound crazy. You didn't want to scare him away. To feel safer, you could always stay at your mom and stepdad's house, but how long was this going to last? You barely slept for several nights. 

---

One night, you did it--You went over to Dalton's unit and told him you were afraid. He let you in. He asked what was wrong, but didn't force you to explain. When it got late, he asked if you would be okay on your own, and you said no. He let you sleep in his bed, and he took the sofa. You slept in a t-shirt and underwear.

In the middle of the night, you startled awake with a nightmare. You must have been loud, because Dalton didn’t have good hearing, but he still came rushing into the bedroom. “You’re okay,” he repeated. “Hey, you’re good. I’m here.” As you came back to your senses, you took in the view of his strong, handsome, shirtless silhouette sitting on the edge of the bed in only his skivvies.  

You asked him to get in bed with you until you fell back asleep, and he agreed. You wished he'd stay with you all night. He fell asleep with his hands behind his head. You wanted him to hold you. You made the move to cuddle up to him with your head in the crook of his arm and a hand on his shredded chest. In his sleep, he reflexively put his arm around you. As you woke up, your knee bent, with a mind of its own, looking to rest your thigh across his body. When you brushed a hard shape in his boxer briefs, you fully woke up. Your heart raced.

He didn't seem to wake up, so you dared to rest your leg against it, and his balls. “Mm,” a soft grunt in his sleep and a twitch of his cock was his only response. You lay there getting wet, then he slurred “world champion.” 

A while later, just as you were almost back to sleep, his free hand came to your knee. He pulled your leg tighter against his hard-on and let out a barely audible moan that made you throb. His large hand slid a few inches and grabbed the side of your thigh. His hips rocked slowly, lazily rubbing his stiff length against you. It made your nipples harden. You wanted to pull down his underwear and feel the smooth skin of his cock gliding over his thick, hard shaft as he rutted against your thigh. You wanted him to wake up and punish you for making him so horny, then be affectionate after releasing it all over you. Or all in you. He moaned a little louder and your breath hitched.

You lifted your head to get a look at his face: Lips parted, brow furrowed. He moved your leg and slowly humped it, his cock feeling bigger and stiffer every time it pressed into your flesh. You twitched between the legs and felt you might come. You couldn't help but lightly grind against his hip. This continued, his moans becoming regular.

You got closer and closer and tried not to hold your breath, fuck. Then, you reached your peak, clit pulsing against his hip. You kept quiet and remained as still as you could, but your body still jerked as you clenched around nothing. Your leg clamped down on him, and he moaned, then his cock pulsed in his boxer briefs, right against your inner thigh. Your heart fluttered and you let out a soft moan as he came in his underwear, warmth spreading, dick twitching against you, making a mess of himself after low key jacking off with your leg in his sleep. It dawned on you that you’d likely soaked through your panties and onto his boxers briefs, with your legs spread like this.

His grip loosened on your thigh, his breathing changed. His heart beat faster under your cheek. You panicked and pretended to be asleep with his thick cock softening under you. It was too late to take your leg away. 

He groaned quietly, then gently lifted your leg to take it off his body. You pretended to half-wake up, and he muttered, “sorry.” It was somewhere between bemused and embarrassed, but he was calm, as always. 

“What,” you whispered. 

“Wet dream,” he stated plainly and quietly. Your face got hot. Your head was still on his chest near the armpit. He asked, “You didn’t . . . . “do anything?” 

“Did you dream I did?” you asked. 

“Uh–I shouldn’t've asked” 

“Sorry if I put my leg on you, I normally sleep with a body pillow.” 

He adjusted himself. “Not your fault. . .Hope this doesn’t make things awkward.” 

“It won’t.” 

“Really?” he asked skeptically with a hint of condescension. “How? It’s objectively embarrassing.” Somehow he didn’t sound embarrassed, though.  Something came over you, and you blurted out, “Cause, it’s kinda hot.” Immediate regret. Why did you say that? 

He sucked his chin back to look down at you. You lifted your head off him. He lifted his eyebrows with a smile. “ Nice,” he said in a near-whisper. “Alright, your turn.” 

Your heart skipped a beat and your lips parted as you stared at him blankly. 

“Make me feel better. Tell me something embarrassing.”

Oh. Okay. 

You propped your head up and he was just so hot, a smile crept up your lips as you looked at him.

He turned onto his side to face you. “I’ll wait,” he teased. You let your eyes wander to the vein on his bulging bicep as you tried to think. 

You shook your head. “I can only think of one thing and it’s way worse.” No, don’t tell him that. Are you crazy? 

“Perfect,” he encouraged. 

“Ghostface,” you whispered. “That’s who I’m afraid of.” 

"That makes sense,” he squinted. “Just last week–shit, that was your friend, wasn’t it?” Concern pinched his face. “Thought she looked familiar.” He stroked your arm and looked at you softly.

“That’s not the embarrassing part,” you admitted, unable to stop yourself. You had been dying to tell someone, and something told you he wouldn’t judge you. You couldn’t put your finger on why. 

“Okay,” he nodded slowly, raising his brows in anticipation. “I’m listening.” 

“I can’t,” you shook your head. “Sorry.” 

“What, did you wet your bed?” His face was dismissive, like it would be no big deal. 

You managed a slight chuckle, then swallowed.  He searched your face then settled on your eyes. 

“I had sex with him,” you blurted out. 

Dalton laughed, then it faded as he absorbed your face. Your eyes were watering. “Ghostface?” he asked. 

You nodded. His breathing deepened. He was still calm, but something was simmering under the surface. “He attacked you?” 

“Kind of, I guess. I dunno”  

His nostrils flared and his neck vein bulged. “And forced you.”

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted it.” 

Dalton’s blue eyes widened. He propped himself up on his forearm. and slowly nodded, digesting this information. “When?”

“Like a week ago.” 

“He killed your friend, *then* you let him fuck you?”

“I know,” you whispered and turned your head toward the bed in shame. 

“You sure you wanted it?” 

“Yeah. I was on top.” 

You glanced at him just as his eyebrows shot up.

“I know, it’s so messed up.” 

“He didn’t hurt you at all?”

“He didn’t.” 

“Are you a nympho or something?” he asked, then quickly added, “No judgment.”

“No. . . I dunno.”

After a moment of silence, you looked up at him. He was perfectly still, scanning your face. Then his eyes locked with yours. 

“You must think I’m crazy,” you muttered. You were disappointed in yourself for sharing this, but at the same time, it felt like such a relief to tell someone, anyone. 

“No,” he calmly stated. “It’s . . .kinda hot,” he revealed. “Turned me on.” He brazenly adjusted himself.

“Don’t have to make me feel better.” 

“I’m not. I'm. . . intrigued”  

He got closer, then rested his hand on your side. He ran his hand up and down your side, then pulled your bodies together until they were flush. His boxer briefs were damp against your underwear, and he was hard. He looked at your lips, then his face slowly drifted toward yours, and you closed the gap with a kiss. Your lips sealed together and your tongues found each other.

He grinded against you to the slow, hard rhythm of the kiss, then hiked your leg up over himself and his hand slid down your thigh to your ass. He kissed you needily and moaned into your mouth as his cock swelled even harder against your front. He kneaded your ass, then, from the back, his fingers worked their way to the crotch of your panties. He kept kissing you as he ghosted your folds from behind, through the damp cotton. 

“Mm,” he hummed into your mouth. 

He worked a finger under the fabric and gave a more pronounced, “Mmmm,” when he felt how warm and wet you were.  A thick finger prodded your hole, then slid inside. As the digit pushed in, you twitched around it and his mouth broke away with a moan. His finger slid out, leaving you empty, then he yanked your underwear down and you helped take it off. He took his off as well, in a hurry. He got up on his knees, holding his cock – big, veiny, and webbed with cum. “You’re hot,” he breathed and stroked it once. 

He searched your eyes, then got between your legs and your clit twitched when his tip slid down your folds to notch at your entrance. Without pause, he pushed his wet cock into you, dividing your walls with a moan, making you gasp. He withdrew most of his length, then slammed into you, bottoming out and throbbing with you spread around his manhood. He grunted and breathed heavily as he fucked his cum into you. His beautiful veins bulged–on his arms, his chest. 

He planted his hands on the bed, arms straight, and kept his hips loose–each time he withdrew his length, he let something like gravity push him back in. His movements were so smooth and fluid, but the weight of his cock was unforgiving. His balls slapped against you. He got down on one forearm and groped your breast as he fucked you. He sucked your neck. 

The new angle had him grinding against you, and it didn’t take long until you were choking out his name, “Dal–dalton, fuck,” then coming on his cock, squeezing it, spasming around him, hips lifting into him. He groaned and slowed down but fucked you through it. “Ugh,” he gritted, then you said, “Don’t pull out.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to ask, “Did he come in you?”

You nodded. He closed his eyes again and groaned on the edge of bliss. He bit his lip, then bottomed out, and his mouth fell open as he erupted in your depths. “F—ohhhhh.”

You closed your eyes and savored the way he pulsed inside you, something you’d imagined many times. He let some of his weight down onto you and stayed inside for a minute, until he slid out and spooned you. 

You couldn’t help but think to yourself–if your situation with ghostface was what made Dalton fuck you, maybe everything happened for a reason. 

--------

ty for reading this random little treat. i'm not doing any intentional writing right now and i think the break is already helping soothe my brain. but this just kinda . . .slipped out.