#The RandL Cowboys
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*Collapses* I did it. They’re home.
For those of you who are on Reddit, a Mythical Beast in the Austin area put out a message that the Mythicon Rhett and Link cowboy wooden cutouts were in the back of their warehouse, about to be cut up and thrown out, and would anyone like to rescue them? I live 45 minutes away, so I posted ‘sure, of course! How much fun would it be to get them, decorate them for Christmas, prop them up in my lawn, and confuse all my neighbors? I could shoot a Wheel of Mythicality video! I’ll put them in front of the mall, by the world’s biggest cowboy boots! I’ll leave them on top of the HEB!’
I was half kidding, half serious, 100% high. I don’t even own a truck.
The next day, they message me the address and let me know that the guy working in the warehouse knows to expect me on Monday. Uh oh. I think I’m locked in. What am I going to do? Rent a truck?
Rent a truck, apparently.
Monday morning, I call my friend Liz and ask if she wants to come with me. I’m not so sure about this because you see, I had never DRIVEN a truck before. I’m a bit of a nervous type, and… to say I’m prone to distractions would be an understatement. I’m walking ADHD with a face. I can barely focus on typing up this story because my cat is sitting two feet from me, licking his ass. If I’m going to do something new, especially something physical, I’m usually better alone because even WALKING and talking will cause me to trip over my own feet. This could end in disaster.
But she wants to come, and we head to the Home Depot. I pay, we get the keys, buy a bungie cord, and head out. First obstacle: it is raining, and foggy as hell. Second obstacle: I can’t figure out how to get the door to the truck open. It’s just – I’m turning the key, the little door lock nub pops down, but the door wont open. By this point, Liz is laughing her ass off at me, but takes pity on me and opens the door. Turns out, it was already unlocked. This is going great.
I’m in the driver’s seat. This thing feels HUGE, and I’ve never driven anything bigger than my Mazda CX5. When I back up, it beeps. It FUCKING BEEPS. I am out of my depth. It takes me 5 minutes to get out of the parking lot. I was shaking, refusing to get on the highway for the first 10 minutes. But sure enough, I get a little more confident and finally get the monstrosity out on I-35.
Eventually we make it to the warehouse, and I find a very nice man welding back there. Sure enough, he knew I was coming. “Just back the truck up the loading ramp,” he says.
JUST. BACK. THE. TRUCK. UP. THE. LOADING. RAMP.
I am barely comfortable driving this thing forward on a road. Immediately, thoughts of us tipping over the side of the concrete ramp fill my mind. But we’re too far in. It has to be done.
All the while, Liz is trying to direct me, not from outside the truck like I want, but from the passenger seat. She’s not even looking backward, like she has the fucking Force or something. I’m trying to do it my own way. She keeps yelling directions at me. I start to lose it. “STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP YELLING AT ME! I’M TRYING TO DO THIS BLIND!”
“You’re not blind, I’m guiding you.”
“IF A PERSON IS GUIDING A BLIND PERSON, THEY’RE STILL DOING IT BLIND!”
“No they’re not, they’re -”
“Shush! This is the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life!”
We do not tip over the edge of the ramp, and the nice man loads the cutouts for us. We pull off the ramp and get out to strap them down. This takes twenty minutes (mostly Liz did it, for which I am extremely grateful), and I make a new discovery – these things are SOLID. Like heavy as hell. I don’t know how that man loaded them himself, but I was impressed.
Something about the truck – its shocks suck. So every bump and dip on I-35, Rhett and Link are bouncing and SLAMMING together. Multiple jokes about Rhett and Link banging in the back of the truck ensue, but rest assured, I am terrified. I’m picturing the headlines: “Giant Wooden YouTube Cowboys Kill Family of Four on I-35.”
Finally, we get them to my house. Link is easy enough for the two of us to unload. Rhett is ... more of a challenge. It’s at this point that it occurs to me that my plan of shooting a Wheel of Mythicality video are going to hinge on whether or not I’ll ever get these guys to stay upright in my lawn. This is yet to be seen.
So thanks to my extremely capable friend, and marijuana, there are now two 10-foot tall, 100-pound wooden cutouts just chilling in my garage. I can’t say I regret it. I have the most unique Mythical merch ever. I have no fucking clue what I’ll ever do if I move, which is great because I’m planning to move in a year. Still…no regrets (mild regrets).
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Friday Fun: Santa is a Cowboy by Slim Randles
Enjoy this fun essay from Slim Randles and look for the clever ways he incorporates the classic, Twas The Night Before Christmas.
I’ve been battling Covid since last Saturday and my head is currently filled with all those little Styrofoam pellets used for packing, so my brain is rather useless at the moment. Takes forever to pull a thought or a word out, which leaves me no choice but to let my friend, Slim Randles, entertain you with a fun story.
Grab a cookie, read on, and enjoy.
The subject came up spontaneously at a…
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— updated masterlist !
[ THEME CHANGES BASED ON MY PROFILE! ]
MOVIES —
THE OUTSIDERS — [CIRCA. 1983.]
dallas winston
cowboy like me — taylor swift.
james dean daydream — taylor swift.
your lips are my idea of luxury — taylor swift.
no words appear in the aftermath—taylor swift.
willow — taylor swift.
ponyboy curtis
pulchritudinous!
can you feel it? — taylor swift.
johnny cade
on the back said 1958 — taylor swift.
hands are tough — taylor swift.
drew stars around my scars — taylor swift.
sodapop curtis
darling, id wait for you —
you're the only thing i know — taylor swift
wished them away — taylor swift.
steve randle
my daddy said stay away! — taylor swift
because he really knows me — taylor swift.
i would marry you in an instant!
two-bit mathews
what would you do if only you knew!
darry curtis
got his father's eyes
so scarlet it was maroon
THE KARATE KID — [CIRCA. 1984]
daniel larusso
hopelessly devoted
smile that could light up this whole town
looks at me like a trend
rumors from inez
break in a million pieces
can never look away
never see a love as pure as it
lit a fuse
crazier
like you do
making me want you!
in and out
sense of what you've seen
with you all night
i need you
boyish look
SPIDERMAN : ACROSS THE SPIDER VERSE — [CIRCA. 2023]
miles morales
you're losing me
miguel o’hara
speak now
take it off!
prettiest lady
tan skin
TOP GUN — [ CIRCA. 1986 | 2023 ]
pete mitchell
evermore
be okay, promise
watch you sleep
laughing from the passenger side
miss you
used to feel you breathe
doorway
timeless
bradley bradshaw
love you for you
afterglow
after all
seven and nine
the next train
timeless
grown men don't cry
electric touch
salt air
peace
nick bradshaw
kiss
bob floyd
won't ever tell
jake seresin
everything has changed
best friend
sweet nothings
careless mans careful daughter
TV SHOWS —
SUPERNATURAL — [CIRCA. 2005 – 2019]
dean winchester
make you stay
see the good in me
illicit affairs
sam winchester
lover
red
cowboy like me
THE WALKING DEAD —
rick grimes
altar
CRIMINAL MINDS —
spencer reid
can you see right through me
cardigan
will you please stand
didn't mean to stare
you never did
ride cowgirl
smaller acts
[ tagging some mutuals. @renqiisnce @mictodii @crazyf0rswayze]
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Welcome to my blog ig?
You can call me Cyrus, Coyote, or cowboy, it doesn’t matter to me. Please keep in mind that I am an ADULT but I do not search for anything weird on this app, any weird or sexual behavior towards me will get you blocked immediately.
Characters I will write for (or try to at least!)
Logan Walker
Keegan Russ
Simon Ghost Riley
David Hesh Walker
Captain John Price
John Soap Mactavish
Kyle Gaz Garrick
Alex Keller
Phillip Graves
König
Joel Miller
Thomas Merrick
Gabriel Rorke
Ajax
Tommy Miller
Dallas Winston
Ponyboy Curtis
Johnny Cade
Steve Randle
Sodapop Curtis
Darrel Curtis
Two-Bit Matthews
I will probably refrain from writing for anything that is not Call of Duty, The outsiders, or TLOU based!
I will NOT write female reader, Afab, or any female aligned stories.
I WILL write Trans!Masc, Male Reader, amab, and masculine readers. Gender-fluid included.
I don’t really care if any females want to interact, just don’t make a big deal about reading my (mostly gonna be smut) stories. It will be weird if I have a woman commenting on my male aligned posts.
Other than that..uh—Hi! My name is Cyrus, people call me Coyote. (Rather not reveal my actual age but I’m over 18!)
I’m a guy that goes by he/him pronouns
Please do not interact on my smut posts if you are under 18. In my non smut stories they are all 16+. You may follow me though, I don’t have a problem with that as long as you don’t do anything weird🫶
18+ plus people, LGBTQ community, trans people, are all welcomed with open arms, welcome to the cowboy family:) feel free to make requests and suggestions for any stories for posts in the future. I will try my best to stay active and respond to all the ones I do get.
Also, if you’re a regular anon—you may submit your legacy here by referring to yourself as emoji’s or phrases. Example: -❤️ anon- at the end of your ask/request!!
And remember, if you want me to try and write a fic based on a character I don’t already have in my list above, please share! I will try my damn best!!
That’s about it. Any suggestions on stories I will take!
#call of duty#call of duty ghosts#cod ghosts#logan walker#david hesh walker#ghostsoap#cod x male reader#cod x reader#cod mw2#cod modern warfare#introduction#blog#male reader#cod smut#call of duty modern warfare#TLOU#the last of us#Joel miller#Tommy miller#the outsiders#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#two bit mathews#Steve Randle
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Statistical "Which Character" Personality Quiz
take the linked quiz from the perspective of your character, then select 5 - 10 ( i went w/ 25 i couldn't help but go way overboard ) results from the complete matches list that you feel resonate with your character the most (not all of them completely resonate however characters that were influences on my own writing w/ clint. i will highlight who truly resonate)
Robin Hood (Robin Hood): 90%
Spike Spiegel (Cowboy Bebop): 89%
Benjamin 'Hawkeye' Pierce (M*A*S*H): 89%
Malcolm Reynolds (Firefly + Serenity): 88%
Aladdin (Aladdin): 88%
Han Solo (Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope): 87%
Jake Peralta (Brooklyn Nine-Nine): 87%
Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls): 87%
John Crichton (Farscape): 87%
Marty McFly (Back to the Future): 87%
Ian Gallagher (Shameless): 87%
Jim Halpert (The Office): 86%
Randle Patrick McMurphy (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest): 86%
Shawn Spencer (Psych): 86%
Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place): 84%
Alex Karev (Grey's Anatomy): 83%
Will Turner (Pirates of the Caribbean): 82%
Wynonna Earp (Wynonna Earp): 82%
Ferris Bueller (Ferris Bueller's Day Off): 81%
Richard Castle (Castle): 80%
Patrick Jane (The Mentalist): 79%
Fox Mulder (The X-Files): 78%
Cosmo Kramer (Seinfeld): 78%
Robby Keene (Cobra Kai): 78%
Tom Paris (Star Trek: Voyager): 75%
tagged by; @hexsreality (thank you this was fun :D)
tagging; @fortn1ght (janice), @danversiism, @biitchcakes, @gammaragee, @overclocks, @blindbastard, @fellandfeathers (ignore this if you don't wanna <3 have a good night y'all)
#[ ABOUT ] I guess I just need something or someone to believe in or maybe I just need someone who believes in me#[ ooc ] dash games#all of these make SO MUCH sense to me :)#clind coded / clint core characters right here
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remember that time RandL were auctioneers and a bunch of random cowboy dads bid on Link (and one guy 'bought' him)
#I think about it sometimes#gmm#a fanfic about them exploiting the fact their President is owned by some rando in order to facilitate tax evasion
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JODIE CASH nos lleva de viaje cósmico con su nuevo single y videoclip: 'Astral Trip'
El nuevo single y videoclip está dedicado a Lucky, bajista de Los Bombarderos, la mítica formación rock en la que militaba el padre de Jodie Cash
Primeros conciertos de la temporada:
30 septiembre- Hotel Delamar- Lloret de Mar, Girona
19 octubre- Café Belgrado- Sant Cugat del Vallès (Barcelona)
18 noviembre- Premios de la Música Americana, Hall of Fame (LDA)- Lloret de Mar, Girona
‘Astral Trip’ es la nueva canción de Jodie Cash, nuestra country-rock girl patria. Se trata del primero de una serie de singles que lanzará este año y que precederán a la salida de su nuevo disco en 2024. Como ella afirma, este nuevo single ‘Astral Trip’, “está dedicado a Lucky, bajista del grupo de mi padre Chele (Los Bombarderos) y muy amigo de la familia, quien nos dejó hace ahora 5 años.“
”Surge de nuestras conversaciones nocturnas sobre lo que supondría realizar un viaje astral mientras duermes. Él siempre quiso tener la oportunidad de realizar uno y yo en cambio, sin desearlo, experimentaba muchos trastornos del sueño por aquella época de mi vida. Así que, sin llegar a hacer un viaje entero en toda regla, sí tuve bastantes inicios, y en éso Lucky me envidiaba.
Escribí la canción en un momento de tristeza, relacionando ésos famosos viajes con su partida, dando vida al rugir de su moto por última vez y las canciones de Steve Earle, artista que tanto le apasionaba, como banda sonora.”
La canción tiene dos claras estructuras musicales: la primera, cuenta con una guitarra suave y melódica, una estrofa y estribillo dulce y que a la vez es capaz de golpearte en el pecho con ésos cortes sureños. Es ahí donde comienza el viaje y es, quizás, “ la parte en la que yo, estando viva, he podido llegar a experimentar.” La segunda consta de un solo de guitarra desgarrador con potentes guitarras rítmicas detrás que parecen estar dando paso a quién da un viaje sin billete de vuelta.
”Mi intención era remarcar la oscuridad que siente alguien cuando atraviesa ése túnel pero que, en este caso Lucky, podría incluso estar disfrutando, pues por fin podía realizar su ansiado viaje astral.
SOBRE JODIE CASH
Es hija de músicos profesionales de Rock Sureño y Country, muy conocidos por su grupo ‘Los Bombarderos’ durante los años 80 y 90. Pero esto no le animó en sus inicios a ser artista: de pequeña era tan tímida que no quería cantar delante de nadie.
La primera canción que cantó fue ‘Mama's don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys’ de Waylon Jennings y Willie Nelson.
Empezó a tomar clases de solfeo y violín después de escuchar por primera vez ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’ de la Charlie Daniels Band pero en la versión de Lynn Anderson. Dice que ese violín sonaba 'como el mismísimo diablo'.
En el combo de la escuela de música disfrutaba cantando temas como ‘At Last”’de Etta James, ‘Summertime’. Después de esta experiencia entró como segunda vocalista en ‘The Old Weekend Band'.
Luego formó parte de la banda de garage rock The Randles y los dejó para tocar con la banda de chicas The Sparkles, en la tradición de las bandas de doow wop y r&b norteamericanas de los 60.
Tras dos años de carretera y más de 200 actuaciones en directo publican su primer disco, ‘Rollin’ Swingin’ como Jodie Cash Fingers, su formación inicial. Integran la banda Moisés Sorolla (co-fundador de Los Rebeldes 1980), Toni Espelta, John Revell, Juanyo, quien después fue substituido por Tüan D Bass y Toni del Amo. Fue grabado, producido y masterizado por Micky Forteza, premiado con un Grammy por el álbum ‘Orquesta Reciclando’ (Jarabe de Palo).
Fue galardonada con el premio a mejor artista nacional de música americana por la ‘Spanish Line Dance Association’ (2018) y fue nuevamente nominada el año 2019.
Desde 2017, la formación de Jodie la integran Toni Espelta y Toni del Amo. El año pasado publicaron tres singles que al final quedaron fuera de este nuevo disco: ‘Umbral’, ‘Rock Machine’ y 'Huella' (este último editado bajo el sello discográfico Gateaway Records (Nashville)..
En verano de 2020 publicaron su segundo álbum, esta vez en directo y titulado ‘Sherman Trail Live At El Búho Vol.I'.
Su último disco publicado es 'Mil Noches ' que a su vez es su segundo álbum autoeditado y el primero íntegro en español.
Durante lo que queda de año iremos desgranando nuevos singles de Jodie Cash. Y, para 2024 prepara nuevo disco, que supone un punto y aparte y nuevo giro a su carrera así que.. ¡permanezcan atentos, rockandrollers!
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Dallas murders. Randle, call the Police Department at 911 or the Dallas Police Dallas County is a county located in the U. The Dallas County Medical Examiner determined Cash Gernon’s death was a homicide as a result of the wounds, local news station CBS DFW The son of former Dallas Cowboys star Erik Williams is accused of murdering two people, PEOPLE confirms. A 60-year-old Dallas man has been…
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STATISTICAL CHARACTER PERSONALITY TEST. take the linked quiz from the perspective of your character, then select 5 - 10 results from the complete matches list that you feel resonate with your character the most.
Spike Spiegel (Cowboy Bebop): 89%
Robin Hood (Robin Hood): 88%
Aladdin (Aladdin): 88%
Jack Dawson (Titanic): 87%
Jack Twist (Brokeback Mountain): 87%
Dean Winchester (Supernatural): 86%
Han Solo (Star Wars): 85%
Randle Patrick McMurphy (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest): 85%
Flynn Rider (Tangled): 85%
Malcolm Reynolds (Firefly + Serenity): 84%
tagged by: stolen from @/coveitous :3c
tagging: @refrxctive @steavia @xrevolucionario @lightinsonder @gaskills @sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins (ya boi sean) @wild-abandons @wiintereyes @chronal-anomaly @quick-drawn
#his first result was spike bc ofc it was#bulletin board scraps {dash games};#ooc;; mun barks#i put in w/e i cld recognize except brokeback mountain bc i haven't seen it yet but i thought it was funny#the randle one makes me die actually bc yea#GOD pardon the formatting i have to retype all the characters n percentages bc i took this on the phoen#he got jackson jax teller from sons of anarchy at 87% - haven't seen it but it feels significant#just read the synopsis n it sounds like it's time to pick it up :sigh:#Took this for myself n im just a series of disaster men w a penchant for addiction fjcjskgb#THEY GAVE ME SHREK N GOLLUM-
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Dance With Me, Babe
dallas winston x gn!reader
warnings: death, unedited ish 😜
word count: 494
“there’s a place where lovers go, to cry their troubles away,” albeit muffled, you recognized the song as lonesome town by ricky nelson. you turned your attention to dallas, who had hooded eyes and tousled hair. you smiled at him.
“dance with me, babe,” you spoke quietly, just above a whisper. he took a moment to process, then stood and held his hand out for yours. you grabbed it, and he pulled you against his chest with his arms wrapped loosely around your body. you swayed slightly, more of a rocking side to side than dancing.
“you can buy a dream or two, to last you all through the years,” the jukebox sang. you lifted your head and met dally’s lips in a slow kiss. you smiled softly in the kiss, which he reciprocated, making you break apart.
“i love you,” you muttered. dally hummed in response, fluttering his eyes closed. you didn’t mind him not saying it back. you knew that he did love you, at least a little bit.
you just hoped that some day he’d be able to say it too.
§
you ran into buck’s, not stopping until you were inside of your shared room with dally- well, now just your room. you flopped onto the bed and let out a hard, piercing scream. as soon as you’d run out of breath, a whole stream of tears filled your eyes, face, and the pillow beneath you. sobs overtook your body as memories flashed through your mind. eventually you couldn’t think anymore, because crying had made your head pound worse than any hangover you’d ever had.
you laid in silence for a bit, just trying to get rid of your headache. when you finally thought that it was gone, you stood from the bed and went to the sink to get a cup of water. you got your drink, guzzled it down, and as you went to sit back down, a familiar song came on the jukebox downstairs.
“there’s a place where lovers go…”
your body began to shake with sobs yet again as you began to relive the gentle touches and soft whispers of that night. your eyes were full of tears as you stared at the spot that you’d danced.
“they call it lonesome town, where the broken hearts stay…”
your mind wandered around thoughts, desperately trying to forget about what had happened just an hour ago. the love of your life was gone, he had slipped through your fingers before you even had a chance to catch him.
“maybe down in lonesome town, i can learn to forget…”
that was a lie, you’d decided. you had him wrapped around your finger. you were his world, and while he never told you that, you knew he felt that way. you wished he could’ve told you so many things, things that you thought he could say eventually.
he never got the chance to tell you, and now he never will.
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hola bitches! i’m back from the grave (for now). i’ve been writing this on and off for legit a year. incase u cant already tell im rlly bad at writing angst (and writing in general) and i also had a strong hatred for writing for dallas winston for a while and had absolute writers block when i tried to write for him. lowkey went through a darry phase?? cant write for him tho bc im a slut for dallas and cant write anything except dallas. anyway hopefully im gonna start writing more soon, schools been stressing me tf out and i have no free time anymore. but uhhh yeah that’s all im putting the song below incase u wanna be sad w me bc this song is lowkey sad.
#Spotify#dally winston#dallas winston x reader#dally is a cowboy wtf#the outsiders#the outsiders x reader#dally winston x reader#s.e. hinton#sodapop curtis#steve randle#two bit mathews#ponyboy curtis#johnny cade#darry curtis
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Wednesday's Guest - Slim Randles
Revisiting older blog posts today. You might enjoy this #humor from Slim Randles.
Some news to share before I let Slim Randles entertain you with his cowboy humor. First off, my friend, Irene Sandell, has a new book out. Irene is a retired history teacher in North Texas, and she has a wonderful way of blending fact and fiction in her books. Don’t you just love the cover?
I have enjoyed her work since I read her first book, In A Fevered Land, a look at the oil fields in West…
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Got a tree up for the first time in some years. Making an effort to feel a little festive.
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Rhinestone Cowboy
If he was honest with himself, he could admit the glamour of being on tour for one of Country Music’s biggest acts had clouded his better judgement. He’d quickly dismissed all apprehensions regarding living in a conversion van for three months, instead focusing on the idea of working a stage during a live show, standing in the wings while country maverick Roy Walker played to crowds bigger than the population of the town Rhett grew up in. It was a dream come true for a small town boy like him.
Read More on AO3
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
#rhinestone cowboy#rhink#rhett mclaughlin#randl#link neal#rhink fic#slow burn#multi-chapter#i just couldnt wait any longer
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Curtis Gang at the Rodeo
This is definitely inspired by my rant post hehe, enjoy this headcannon!
This is the one place where status doesn’t matter
Everyone’s just trying to have a nice time
The boys all wear cowboy hats
Two Bit wears his tilted back on his head- and occasionally sideways
Dally is a much different person at rodeos, he has a happier demeanor. (He finally has a healthy outlet for all of his anger)
Steve and Sodapop run off to find the mechanical bull since Soda can’t participate in the real events anymore
They try to outdo each other with stupid tricks
Two Bit takes Johnny and Pony to the livestock fair
Johnny and Pony pet the rabbits and goats for hours
He would never tell a soul, but Two Bit is terrified of the chickens and avoids them at all coasts
Johnny knows
Darry needs no convincing to go to the Rodeo- he loves it
Johnny and Pony running off to buy popcorn and cotton candy
Two Bit and Sodapop always join the pie eating contest
They never win
The gang lean against the fence to watch the Rodeo, seats are for Socs
Dally knows everyone there- even the big name cowboys that travel in
Darry laughs at all of the announcer’s stupid jokes
Two Bit’s dream job is to be the clown in the barrel
The gang screaming for Dallas when it’s his event
Soda trying to ride off on random people’s horses just to see if he can get away with it
#The outsiders#The Outsiders imagines#The outsiders imagine#The outsiders headcannon#head cannons#hsc#Darry Curtis#Darrel Curtis#Ponyboy Curtis#Sodapop Curtis#Johnny Cade#Johnny Cake#The outsiders rants#Steve Randle#Two Bit Mathews#Keith mathews#Rodeo#cowboys
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could you do hc for dallas going to sleep on the curtis couch only to find the reader there instead? (ik its kina odd ,heh)
okay istg i did one of these on my old blog but in reverse lol, but i can't find it? anyways, sorry this took me ages to write. i decided to make it a small little written piece, but it ended up being almost 5k words? i hope you enjoy what i've come up with tho! (': <333 - mae
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Title: Sleepy Encounters
Pairing: Dallas Winston x Reader
Summary: Buck Merril's place is fully booked one winter night, leaving Dallas with two options: The back of the T-Bird's impeccably hard seat, or the safe haven of the Curtis couch. One seems vastly more comfortable than the other, and in his sleepy state he encounters something unexpected... and it's definitely not Steve Randle.
Word Count: 4,941
Warnings: swearing, fighting, bickering, mentions of injury/violence, mentions of a switchblade used on a car, mentions of dally being homeless, dally being a bit of a dick, rough housing with no intent to harm bc the reader was sleepy and didn't know their own strength lmaoo. if i've missed anything out then lemme know!
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
January brought it's iciest blues upon winter's breath, touching Tulsa, Oklahoma with its thickest blanket of snow in quite some time. New Year's Eve had come and went on the dying leaves of mistletoe and cheap festive booze. Although the festivities were still booming days later for Buck Merrill at his cheap looking home, Dallas Winston - tipsy from his drinks and a great night partying with his buddy Tim Shepard, he soon came to the realisation that his usual room he'd called his home for the past couple of months had been awarded to a drunken couple about to defile his bed and probably what little personal belongings he still had up in that space.
There was a vivid stroke of disbelief that struck Dally callously in the gut upon hearing the sudden news. It almost made him laugh out loud vehemently as he propped himself up on his elbows against the kitchen table.
"You gotta be shitting me." Dal's plump lips spread out into a dangerous grin prompted by booze and a short fuse.
He shook his head, turning it to the left to find Tim sneering at him with his latest female fascination sitting friskily on his lap.
Buck gulped thickly, intoxicated himself, but all too aware of the insatiably violent repercussions that often ensued when Dallas Winston didn't get his way. Sure they were buddies, but Buck never enjoyed being bullied. It always bugged the older male that he could be bullied into things despite his tough exterior. Dally was his rodeo partner and the pair had made an unspoken promise about Dally staying with him for a while.
The beanstalk of a cowboy cleared his throat uncomfortably, standing up straight as though he was calculating the distance between himself and Dally’s lengthy striking distance.
“M’sorry man,” Buck shrugged with what seemed like indifference. His voice faltered slightly, to which Dally could manage to make out over the cheap, booming music. “I got offered a better deal for it!"
'A better deal?' Dallas pondered to himself, his bushy eyebrows raising up, crinkling his youthful forehead in a way that reminded Tim of an empty chip bag.
This had to be a joke. All of his shit from his pop's place was up there! Buck knew he despised it when someone went digging through his stuff, let alone slept on his mattress that wasn't his girlfriend!
There’d always been this rule between them that had sprouted since day one of Dallas periodically staying there: What became Dally’s, stayed Dally’s. Buck knew this like it was the Eleventh Commandment or something!
Buck had given him a place to crash pretty much every night, which meant that Dallas kept away the rowdy people Buck was too scared stiff to show the door to during parties. Not to mention he promised to work his ass off the next time he rode bull so Buck would get all of the betting dough. It was all free of charge on both ends, so why was his rodeo partner backing out now? He knew better than this.
“A better deal?” Dally snorted, fiddling with the empty brown glass beer bottle in front of him on the coffee table. It gleamed in the fluorescent light that twitched on and off rapidly behind Buck. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
Even to Dally himself, he appeared menacing in his small, warped reflection in the deep chocolate glass. His eyebrows were pinched together all funny and he couldn’t even look up at his buddy that he wanted nothing more than to sock straight in the face. Maybe knocking a few more teeth loose would help Buck remember who he was screwing over.
“They gave him seventy bucks!” Tim chimed in loudly like he was a pirate’s parrot. Man was he wasted if he was tattling on the owner of this house.
Buck shot him a look with his beady eyes, his face hot under the low lights, and he cursed at the snitch known as Tim Shepard. A cussing out was cuing up.
“Seventy bucks?!” Dally squawked out, almost sounding like he was choking. He smoothed a hand down his chin, because who the hell had that kind of cash in a dump like this unless they stole or gambled it?
Buck shrugged his shoulders, leaning up against the doorframe adjacent to Dally. He looked cool, but his eyes gave way to an uneasiness he’d hoped to avoid. He wasn’t about to give up his own bed for the rascal who wasn’t paying him zilch to bum around his place and offer up very little in return.
“Times are hard right now.” His excuse was poor, even Tim could see right through it.
A deal was a deal and he’d made one with Dally, whether silent or not. You stuck to your word when it came to the notoriously difficult seventeen year old, otherwise there was hell to pay.
Hitting hard times and all that was nonsense! This place was always bustling, because it was filled with wild people who did wild things: and when wild people did wild things, there was always this influx of money and other means of value that came along with it - despite it’s corrupt origins.
"Hard times my ass." The younger one seethed out with bitter acrimony, leaning his body forward against the wooden table. “We had a deal.” He continued to counter.
“What deal?” Buck raised his eyebrows like it was the first time he’d ever heard of this made up agreement.
Dally let out a cold laugh, settling back into the kitchen chair around Buck’s dining table. There’d been a poker game going on an hour ago that Dally had fixed to win in his favour. He’d made double of seventy bucks, but wasn’t about to spend a single cent of it here.
“You pullin’ my leg or somethin’, man?” Dally let out a huff of irritation, for once willing to take things in good humour.
But all there was was this uneasy standoff between the two men: Buck was silent, his eyes were the only thing giving away his guiltiness. Dally’s clenched fists sat on top of the table and shook violently. His knuckles were this creamy bone white.
“If I come back tomorrow and my shit’s been taken, I swear to God you’ll be on a stretcher to the hospital.” He rasped out loudly, jabbing his finger onto the countertop with promise.
“You ain’t gonna do squat.” Buck challenged.
Oh, he should have kept that bucked toothless mouth shut!
It wasn’t long until Dallas had exited Buck’s home with a belligerent push of the front screen door. The thing squealed and groaned with the violent movement until it banged against the wooden planks of the wall behind it and slammed back shut behind him. A string of hostile cusses flew from Dally’s mouth, threats flying along with them at breakneck speed and over his right shoulder. Buck lay on the ground inside, clutching his fresh black eye and a busted nose. That was the last time Dallas would afford to get fucked over by him.
There was a formidable and sour expression plastered to his handsome face that made Dallas appear several years older than his actual age. Like a domino effect, people outside chatting stopped before hurriedly looking the other way - even if they were on the friendlier side of his acquaintance -. Everybody that had a brain knew not to even look at Dally when he was in a foul mood like this.
As he stepped off the front porch, he was met with snow fluttering down in a breath-taking delicate fashion from the starless dark sky. It dusted onto the shoulders of his notorious brown leather jacket with the fortunate sheepskin lining. Although the cold suddenly bit on his nose, ears and appendages, he was toasty warm with rampant rage that needed some sort of outburst to thwart it. He turned the corner of the home sharply where there were less people and in his line of sight was his only refuge for the night. Buck’s T-Bird, which was blanketed with an inch of snow by now, looked about the only warm place he could bunk for the night since his pop’s kicked him out once again.
Sleeping in the frigid T-Bird with just the clothes on his back and a hope not to freeze to death seemed plausible. He’d slept in much worse places back in New York City that made the car seem like a five star hotel. Yet in his bitterness, Dallas had a distinct mental image of Tim Shepard rapping on the window the following afternoon in his hungover stupor, suddenly brightened up to poke fun at how his buddy who’s mirror the image was of a kicked puppy, settling for being Buck’s bitch because he had nowhere else to go.
Dallas gritted his teeth, his breath coming out in laboured, frustrated smoky plumes whilst he pocketed his hands in his back pockets, his fist instinctively curled around his pretty switchblade. A gnarly idea slashed an opening into his twisted mind: Buck would have no T-Bird, and the beauty of it was that hopefully Buck was too hammered to remember where the black eye and broken nose had come from in the morning. If Tim wanted to snitch then, then he’d get what was coming for him.
“Hope that seventy bucks was worth it…” Dally muttered smartly to himself, making good work of his switchblade.
With a fraction of his anger righted somehow, Dally turned out of the drive on foot and began the long, logical walk towards the Curtis Brother’s house. There lay his only warm safe haven from the cold in the form of a couch he hoped was not occupied by his his pal Steve Randle. Although Dallas had taken the floor of the living room on many occasions, his foul mood was an indication that if Steve or anyone else was situated on that couch, they’d be taking the floor. Otherwise they’d be met with a deadly shove landing them there. He’d fight for that spot, especially since he’d been virtually homeless once again through the fault of his deadbeat father.
The lengthy walk was spent on Dallas stewing over the audacity Buck had in wronging him, despite the fact he logically was aware that he’d not been bringing any real income into the place he had been bumming around at. Dally didn’t care, nobody wronged him like that and it bothered him something awful that his rodeo partner had turned his back on him in his time of need.
After all, Dally had been real smart about who he’d told his housing situation to. His gang knew and so did Buck; all sworn to secrecy to keep it hidden from his girlfriend who would have made a fuss about the entire ordeal. He needed a place to stay, not someone who would worry about the minute details on a consistent basis then bug him nonstop about said details. He didn’t need to be fretted over, because he was fine! He always made ends meet somehow, whether that came from stealing, lying or cheating: Dallas Winston could rely on himself solely - even if he didn’t like to admit that he needed other people such as Buck and the gang in between time to get by.
Realistically Dally knew that bringing (y/n) into this wouldn’t have pleaded his case for the better: He was accustomed to couch surfing since a young age back in New York, so this was his life and her babying and concern would have only grated on his nerves since he wasn’t used to it. It wasn’t like she could have convinced her parents to offer up their living room couch to him since his extensive criminal record and daunting reputation left him in an unfavourable light regarding her parents. Sure there was the option of having snuck into (y/n)’s room more often, but too many times in a row harboured questions that Dally was too guarded to ever answer truthfully to anyone, let alone to her.
Perhaps he was just too embarrassed to, because a part of him thought that she deserved better than a bum like him: He kept getting thrown back into the cooler like it was his primary home, which never made (y/n) happy at all. Yet she knew there was no changing him, but he always caught that look of disappointment in her eyes when he’d be sent away for however long this time.
Dallas Winston was nothing but a hoodlum, the worst of the worst. He’d done so many unspeakable things for crying out loud! How had he bagged not only such a good looker, but also someone relatively good? Good was meant in the sense that sure she’d break the rules, maybe some more minor laws if she wouldn’t get caught, but overall, she wasn’t cut from the same stretch of cloth as Dallas had been from birth: Goodness had rotted from the inside out when he was just ten years old, freshly shipped off to juvenile detention for the first time.
He was stuck this way for good, because people couldn’t change. The world wouldn’t change.
His feet crunched through the snow of the vacant lot when he came hurtling into the present moment. He quivered from the cold - even his toes were numb from walking so long in it -. A habitual sniffle came from him just as his eyes veered off to the left to find that old beaten up car seat completely vacant and no fresh ruined remnants of a fire within its wake. Johnny’s absence here was a godsend to Dallas who was happy to discover his friend had some sort of smarts in his noggin. That was one less thing he had to worry about, even if it meant that Johnny was holed up in his parents place. A relatively warmer place away from the elements was better than the straight up snow being your blanket.
He continued on his lonesome trek towards his safe haven of warmth.
Dallas felt some relief wash over him as he slowly took one step up on the porch at a time. He got to the mat outside of the screen door and stomped his feet good and hard, because Darry would no doubt bitch about the soggy carpet in the morning. His numbed fingers curled around the handle, softly yanking it open. He kicked the other door open, slightly left ajar for some unfathomable reason and Dally was overcome with the sweet nectar that was a warm home. It felt scalding on his frozen skin that had gone slightly damp on his face from his shaggy bangs dripping melted snowflakes onto his reddened skin. He let out a sigh, shoving them back before kicking off his smelly boots by the door.
His actions were gentle as he hung up his jacket, careful not to make much noise so he didn't wake the occupants of the home up. The only other permeating in the house was the TV that blew static since the station it was on had come to it’s nightly end. He found that odd and it should have been a dead giveaway that someone else was occupying the couch. Yet in his sleepy state, too exhausted and cold to feel any indignance for the extra work, he journeyed over to the device with a creek of the floorboards underneath his weight to switch it off.
The room and himself plummeted into darkness and without thinking, he backed up towards the couch with the intention to flop backwards on it and hit the hay.
Dallas’s sturdy back came into contact with a hard object curled in on itself. It hurt like hell, kicking the wind straight out of his lungs whilst his head smacked violently against the arm of the couch. He groaned at the same time he heard a sickly moan underneath him. However his mind, plagued with the desire to sleep, did not register what or who was underneath him.
There came a struggle, something stirring and buried under his body weight, before a desperate, “Can’t breathe!” twinkled into his ears in a familiar twang and pitch.
“What the hell?” He grunted out, tired of the sharp elbow digging in the back of his ribs. He leaned his arm upon the back of the couch and hoisted his body weight up so his fingers stretched out into the dark and flicked on the lamp.
Light pooled outwards, stinging his eyes and he hissed, blinking profusely before getting a look at exactly who was under him, because it certainly was not Steve.
There, half curled up, bestowing both a grouchy and painful expression was his girlfriend. (y/n) looked up at him, digging herself deeper into the comfortable couch and making good use of Dallas’s looming shadow to shield her from the light. Her eyes adjusted first, half lidded, but she didn’t say anything to him.
‘Is this a dream?’ She inquired quietly in her mind, studying Dally’s irritated features. For a moment she had forgotten her own bedless predicament and wondered why he was half hovering over her in an odd twisted fashion like he was Spiderman.
Dallas blinked a few more times, stunned to find his girlfriend bumming on Darry’s couch at this hour. Had her home been set on fire or something? Because this sort of shtick just didn’t happen in the real world.
Their silence loomed for a few short minutes before Dallas twisted round fully and knelt down by her feet. He wasn’t entirely smooth about the motion, his left hand flying out instinctively onto the armrest above her head to prevent himself from falling on top of (y/n) and really doing any intentional damage. The dog tags around his neck flung out from the confines of his black beat up t-shirt and swung like a pendulum between them, scuffing her cheek a few times. Irritation consumed her and her right hand flew up to catch it and shoot daggers up at Dallas.
“What the hell are ya doin’ here? Ain’t you meant to be at home sleepin’?” He spoke a little louder than he intended to. After all, he’d been expecting smartass Steve.
“Sleepin’! What does it look like I’m doin’?” She hissed out like a cobra, her eyebrows knitted together in a way that spelled she wasn’t happy with him.
“No dumbass,” Dally began, much quieter this time, “I meant-”
“I know what you meant-” She hissed once more, fingers still curled around his dog tags, but her eyes refused to lock on his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.
He was riddled with impatience, a new thing to grow angry about. All he wanted to do was get a few hours of shut eye and be on his merry way by noon. But something about the way (y/n) wasn’t making room for him on the couch grated him like he was a measly piece of cheddar cheese. He could not be bothered with being dealt another unjust hand tonight
His left hand slid down the armrest beside her hair and he did his best to gently shove her deeper into the back of the couch with a, “Move over!” tumbling from his plump lips that usually had a smoke between them.
“I can’t!” She challenged back, shoving up against his shoulder in retaliation much stronger than she’d meant so.
The sharp movement caused the chain around his neck to snap off. He veered off to the left and he shot off over her legs and the side of the couch. He thumped into the coffee table just as his left forearm steadied himself. He grunted out in more than frustration, his eyes falling on his favourite piece of jewellery dangling in her hands like it was a betrayal.
“I was here first!” (y/n) declared logically, suddenly backed up by all the courage in the world that caused her to turn her back on Dallas. In retaliation, she stuck her butt out underneath the blanket thrown over her in a haphazard fashion to prohibit her boyfriend from joining her on the couch.
If he’d asked more politely then maybe she would have considered his abnormal request at such an ungodly hour.
Dallas he didn’t think, his fingers moved of their own venomous accord and the tips pinched her right butt cheek curtly. It caused her to jostle, her knee slamming into the back of the couch and they were lucky her yelp had been muffled by the thick blanket Sodapop had no doubt thrown onto her at some point during the night. She whipped around to face him like a bat racing out of hell - the blanket getting caught around her feet. Her face was swarmed with all the signs of rage and it made him laugh out loud while he faced her.
“Take the floor. You’re meant to be a gentleman.” She pointed out, totally knowing it was futile because Dallas Winston was never a gentleman.
“Take the floor?!” He forgot his little triumph in getting her to turn around and became irritated. “What? You think I’d get a bad back for you? In your dreams, babe! The shivers are dead!” He pointed at her childishly.
“The shivers?” She muttered to herself perplexed as she stared at her boyfriend. What was that meant to indicate?
It sounded made up. Then realisation began to dawn across her breath-taking features and she let out a swift, quiet laugh. It sounded abnormal, all smug and out of character for her.
“You think I’m being funny?” He snapped at her.
“Don’t you mean chivalry?” She sneered triumphantly, a mirror image of how Dally looked like every time he teased her for saying something stupid.
“That’s what I said! Are you calling me dumb?” He inquired seriously, parking his butt on the coffee table because his knees were aching from kneeling down.
“I didn’t have to, you did it all on your own.” She pointed out.
It was true, he had.
A blush scalded his cheeks as though he’d been branded by a red hot poker. He was embarrassed, but it wasn’t like words and shit were his forte. Everybody knew that! So he went to the next best line of defence: Attempting to roast her.
“You've been hanging out with Pony again or something? You sound like a walking talking dictionary.” He stated, flicking her forehead playfully. It sounded weak and he even knew it.
(y/n) rolled her eyes at him in such a fashion that if she’d rolled them any harder, they would have popped out of her head and landed in his lap. She didn’t hesitate to roll over once more, certain that Dallas would tire himself out once the, “You’re gonna wake up Darry.” left her lips in that nasally sing-song tone.
Was that supposed to be some terrifying threat that was meant to leave Dally shaking in his stinky socks? It made him snort because even Darry wouldn’t dare go up against him, because he was too wild. The oldest Curtis was smart, he wasn’t going to risk getting into anything heated with Dally. In his eyes he ran the show, but one of Dally’s daunting dark looks (however fake) that spelled out he was in a bad mood would result in Darry steering clear of him; though he did have to admit that in a sleep driven stupor, Darry wouldn’t have as much sense as his waking self typically did.
That didn’t matter to Dallas. He’d take him on either way, just like he did anyone else.
“Yeah?” Dallas leaned closer, his cold lips pressed against her ear, making the volume of his voice test her eardrums. He’d play into her little game. “S’that meant to be a threat?” She could hear the smile in his tone.
“Maybe if I yell loud enough he’ll kick you off the couch for me. Now move!” He hissed himself, pressing his frigid hands against the back of her neck.
A striking yelp came out of her throat, startling even Dallas as he sat back. She sat up, eyes ablaze with anger and the pair sat there quietly, listening to the way Darry’s snoring broke up. He twisted in bed for a few short minutes before his snoring started up again and Dallas grinned at her evilly.
“Great going, dumbass! You could’ve gotten us kicked out!” She launched the couch cushion at him, her voice a shouting whisper.
Dallas effortlessly captured the cushion in his hand like it were any miscellaneous item someone had thrown his way. He was smug, biting his lip whilst all his anger washed away because he’d won this argument the dirty way. His long thick fingers squashed the feathery insides of the beaten up cushion between his hands. His dark eyes spelt mischief and (y/n) sighed out, admitting her defeat.
“Fine!” She huffed out, wrapping the blanket around herself as she got to her feet.
Dally rose from the coffee table and playfully flopped onto the couch, jutting the pillow behind his head to break the fall against the armrest. He laid there, his infamous shit eating grin stretching across the expenditure of his entire countenance. She hated how annoying her boyfriend could be, rolling her eyes and getting ready to retreat with the warm blanket to Darry’s armchair. She didn’t get far when Dallas encased her thighs in his right arm, tugging her down on top of him.
“Don’t be such a grump!” He teased her quietly, impishly smirking at her.
She responded by straddling him, tucking her head into his strong chest in defeat. Dally's hands yanked areas of the blanket so he could be covered up too.
"Blanket hog." He muttered under his breath before his lithe fingers reached up over his head and flicked the lamp's switch off.
Darkness came upon them, thin lines of silver moonlight streaking in through the blinds. Dally pretended they didn't exist, shuffling about to gain the most comfortable position. He felt his shaggy bangs sticking to his forehead, almost dried and laughed to himself a little over the encounter he'd had with (y/n). If anyone had pushed him like that, they'd be kissing the dirt under the house right now, but he had a soft spot for her: Besides, he didn't get a kick out of doing things like that to women.
"What's so funny?" (y/n) asked suddenly, shivering on top of him and feeling his cool skin through their thin, worn out clothes.
"Nothin'." He mumbled in the darkness, eyes shut.
"You're cold." She complained, stating the obvious.
"Yeah, no shit Sherlock." He laughed into her hair, blowing air into her face just to be a nuisance, but there was a gentleness to his actions.
"I hate you."
"No you don't, sweetheart." He countered with a smile on his lips.
He was correct, she didn't hate him: No matter how annoying or awful he could be, (y/n) loved Dally and Dally loved her too. Sure they hadn't said it yet, but even the gang could tell it too. Their little scuffle, his broken dog tags that she still held in her fist and his bruised ego from their unintentional rough housing was something to chortle about now and in the months to come.
Dally forgave her, but he wasn't so certain that she had forgiven him for waking her up in such a painful way. It hadn't been his fault, he'd just assumed it was Steve or nobody. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought his cutesy girlfriend would be bumming on a greasers couch.
"What're you doin' here anyway?" Dally's voice was hushed in the darkness, his big fingers smoothing up and down her back in a relaxing fashion.
(y/n) was silent, deliberating whether she should tell him what had happened or not. For a moment, Dally thought she'd already KO'd, but then she sucked in a deep breath,
"I got kicked out because I embarrassed my dad in front of the neighbours so Darry had to come pick me up." She rushed it out in one breath.
It sounded unrealistic and Dally clicked his tongue in a false disappointed fashion, his eyebrows raised in the dark, "You streak the neighbours or somethin'?" He teased her ruthlessly.
"No!" She growled, offended and embarrassed. He could just imagine the glowing embarrassment rife in her expression.
"Then what'd you do, goody two shoes?"
"I drank too much and puked on the neighbours front porch..." She muttered quietly.
Dallas would have been a real bastard and gotten her to repeat it, but the first time she said it was hilarious enough. He erupted into a fit of laughter so loud, he shook underneath her.
"Soda! You better quit gigglin' like a school girl or so help me God-" Darry's booming voice echoed in the house.
"Huh?" Soda groaned, voice muffled from his face being squashed in his pillow.
"Shut up!" (y/n) giggled quietly, slapping her hand over Dally's mouth. "You're gonna get us both killed!" She hissed, her smile pressed into his collarbone.
Dally attempted to stifle himself, burying his face into (y/n)'s hair just as Darry sat up in bed and muttered nonsense to himself like, "I got work in the morning!"
"What you talkin' about? I got work in the mornin' too!" Soda sassed back from across the hallway.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
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I posted 1,568 times in 2021
634 posts created (40%)
934 posts reblogged (60%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 1.5 posts.
I added 1,325 tags in 2021
#link - 292 posts
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#randl - 165 posts
#gmm - 134 posts
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#<3 - 115 posts
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Longest Tag: 131 characters
#who am i kidding i’ll probably go ‘oooh’ the next time i see a cute tshirt i like and order it thinking ‘this time’ll be different’
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
King
108 notes • Posted 2021-07-21 08:13:26 GMT
#4
I love the idea that the captain and fanny were playing a practical joke on pat when pat told the captain that he’d never seen him laugh before- like he and fanny really do have laughter fits about stuff- and one of those things is knowing exactly how infurating they can be.
111 notes • Posted 2021-11-25 10:32:20 GMT
#3
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Couldn't Ask for a Better Friend
✨✨Happy New Year fellow Beasties! ✨✨
152 notes • Posted 2021-01-01 11:08:53 GMT
#2
I would be so happy if they gave us an episode where we get to see Robin’s journey as a ghost through the ages- including ghosts from a bunch of older ghosts from various parts of history who’ve since been ‘sucked off’- a perfect opportunity for the cast to play some more ghost characters
we could see the time he spent alone, the time he spent with the animals, perhaps a Roman centurian was around for a while? some Anglo-Saxons? I can’t recall the exact geography of where Button House is- going off of West Horsley being in Surrey- I beleive the Vikings did have a presence at some point? (though they might not go for a Viking given that CBS has a Viking characterin their main cast and it might feel a bit on the nose)
it’d be the perfect episode to bring in another child ghost- though it would be incredibly sad to think of another child ghost- picture robin wandering around with a bairn holding onto his finger who eventually moves on whilst they’re still touching, we see a little more of humphrey’s introduction, maybe some days with mary and alice, and through it all, of course, the moonah
224 notes • Posted 2021-11-30 08:47:48 GMT
#1
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this has been going round and round in my head
342 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 18:11:39 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
#my 2021 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#long post#laughing at 3 out of 5 top posts being ghosts related#when i only started watching properly in mid october#phenomenal#personal
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