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btw all of the curtis brothers have dimples hope this helps!!

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“the shade always comes at the worst time”

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curly sleeping on pony is a cute idea, but ik curly wakes up and his hair is just straight flat on the side he slept on so pony ends up laughing at him, curly hates it sm thag its rare for him to sleep near the guy

BUT pony WOULD help to fix it, hes not 100% disrespectful, he likes helping curly lookin all spiffy n stuff

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Marbit going to the drive in on a date and Two Bit offers Marcia some of his drink, and she takes a sip and expects to be met with the burn of alcohol, because that’s what always happened with Trip. But instead all that hits her throat is carbonation and the normal taste of soda and a comforting feeling of relief.

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The Curtis brothers absolutely refuse to admit when they’re sick. All three of them are terrible about this. They’ll hide it, then when the other two inevitably clock them they’ll deny it, then when they can’t deny it anymore they’ll insist on powering through it, they’re fine, it ain’t that bad.

They’ll drag themselves through work/school until they all but collapse - or until they do collapse - and the other two drag them home and manhandle them into bed.

The sick one will get scolded by the other two, “what the hell were you thinkin’? You pull a stunt like that again, we’ll skin you!”

Except they turn right around and do the same thing the next time they’re sick, because they are all gigantic hypocrites in that regard.

Rinse and repeat.

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curly the guy to text pony first but when pony replies he doesnt reply back till hours later

dont even explain himself, the most pony gets is a “i was busy mb”

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Once Marcia & Two-Bit start dating and Marcia learns enough sign she'll see the gang cursing out Socs when she's hanging out with her Soc friends and snicker to herself and they'll beg her to tell them what they're saying but she NEVER snitches. Half the time when the Socs get their panties in a twist over it the gang aren't even taunting them, they're just talking to each other in the vicinity of a Soc.

When Marcia figures this out she starts REALLY playing into it. Like, she'll see some of the guys she's hanging out with glaring over at the gang and she'll snicker or slap a hand over her mouth, just fake any type of reaction, and they’ll interrogate her to try and get her to tell them what they said and every time she's just like "oh no I can't repeat it, it's like, morally reprehensible, I would never say that out loud" "oh no, no, it's nothing, it's nothing!" "I'm not comfortable with repeating it, it's like, really really bad" etc etc etc and the boys will LOSE their shit. And it turns out it was just Pony enthusiastically telling Soda, Two, and Johnny about something that happened in the book he's reading.

Two thinks it's the funniest thing ever and gets the gang in on it, so then whenever they notice some Socs glaring daggers at them they'll play up their normal conversations to make it seem like they're saying the most vulgar shit ever. And it's just Soda talking about a stray cat that showed up at the DX the other day.

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I just know one day, Steve Randle entered the Curtis house when Soda and Darry were at work, Johnny was probably hanging with Dally, Two-Bit is out with one of his blondes and Pony was probably at track practice. The house was empty, just as Steve liked it.

It’s quiet the whole time, Steve is eating some cake and watching TV, maybe squeezed in some homework and like two hours later he hears someone from the bedroom “Hey! Steve what’s for dinner?!”

Steve’s jumped so hard and he fell off the couch and Ponyboy walks in the living room, laughing as Steve was turning red from embarrassment and annoyance.

Well it turned out track practice was cancelled

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I love how a good bit of people in this fandom collectively agreed that Soda’s not dumb and bro’s just dyslexic as hell and the public education system failed him

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my friends watching supernatural and I get to hear all about it

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soda and steve are “really good at carnival games” except they’re not and soda’s just really good at charming the girls behind the counter and steve is really good at climbing shit and stealing those gigantic plushies and then they’re both really good at running off.

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HIM STARING AT THE TV LIKE A 4 YEAR OLD WHEN MICKEY'S ON TV I HAVE TO LAUGH

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Darry slams the phone down a little harder than he means to, clatterin' it against the wall 'n the pleasant everythin' is just fine voice falls away immediately.

"Everyone with a rap sheet not biologically related to me better start cleanin' or beat it now." Everyone who'd been piled up loungin' on the couch is suddenly on their feet.

"What's goin' on, Dar?" Soda 'n Pony both don't have to ask, jumpin' over each other sprintin' down the hall 'n throwin' the door open so hard it slams against the wall. Clothes fly hodge podge out into the hall, hittin' the wall 'n pilin' on the floor.

"Child fuckin' services are makin' an unexpected call the bastards." Dallas makes a sympathetic sound but grabs Johnny's collar 'n pulls him towards the door. Johnny sighs 'n digs his heels in, jarrin' Dally as he stops. He jerks his head at the laundry room 'n Dallas groans but follows him, both hastily foldin' the pile of laundry Darry had been cajolin' Pony into for two days.

"Oh shit man." Two jumps on top of the couch, flickin' his knife out 'n usin' it to unscrew the traffic signs Steve, Dallas, Two, 'n Soda had stolen months ago 'n Darry had been diligently ignorin' ever since.

"Where's the vacuum?" Pony reappears in the living room, eyes wide. Soda lurches around behind him, head 'n shoulders completely hidden behind the pile of dirty clothes.

"Closet, I'll get it, Pone." Steve ducks behind him, rippin' the closest door 'n yankin' the vacuum from its dusty home.

"Wait no- I got it-"

"Ponyboy Michael why don't you focus on doin' the dishes like you were supposed to do last night." Darry's frantically yankin' windows open to air out the house, which smells a little too much like an ashtray for comfort.

"But I-"

"Pony c'mon." Soda shifts the laundry to one arm 'n grabs Pony by the front of the shirt, draggin' him into the kitchen.

Two finally gets the sign out of the wall, shovin' it under the couch to hide it 'n runnin' into the kitchen to grab a couple of the sketches Pony's done that Darry has pinned to the fridge to cover the screw holes.

"Pony, why are their unrolled cigs under your bed?" Steve shouts 'n Darry watches Pony cringe through the doorway from where he's tryin' to make the mess of shoes 'n coats by the doorway look more presentable.

"Ponyboy Michael we talked about you rollin' your own goddamn kools." Steve snickers 'n Pony stops lookin' at Darry with big, pleadin' eyes to look outlandishly pissed.

"Go get 'em, Glory God, we gotta get rid of 'em." Pony ducks past Darry, not fully managin' to avoid the whack on the back of the head Darry sends him.

Pony disappears into his room 'n they can all hear them get in a couple solid hits back 'n forth. "Ponyboy Michael 'n Steven Thomas we do not have time for this." There's a brief pause 'n then a stingin' slap. "Ohh, Steven Thomas Randle if that leaves a goddamn mark I'm takin' it out of your ass." Pony unsuccessfully tries to hide his snort behind a cough 'n reluctantly shuffles back out, droppin' the cigs into Darry's hand. He shoves the whole mess deep into his pocket 'n clips Pony upside the head again.

"Anyone else have any illegal shit they'd like to turn in while we're on the topic?" Darry glances up 'n finds five pairs of deeply guilty eyes peerin' back at him. "Oh my God."

"Look, you have to promise not to get ma-"

"So, uh-"

"Man, maybe-"

"Everyone shut up. I'm goin' to close my eyes for thirty goddamn seconds 'n if it is out of my house by then I won't say anythin'." Darry presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, tries not to think about the poundin' migraine flutterin' in his temples.

Both the back door 'n front door slam 'n at least four pairs of feet hit the ground runnin'. Glory almighty, he didn't even want to know.

The kitchen tap flips on 'n he listens as Johnny goes to join Pony, flyin' through the pile of dishes. The door to Steve's beater slams closed 'n the four delinquents of the hour file back into the house.

Darry drops his hands from his eyes 'n shoots Two, Soda, Dallas, 'n Steve a glare that says we'll be talkin' about this later. Most of them at least have the decency to drop their eyes to the floor.

"Alright, someone's gotta straighten up this fuckin' living room, one of you needs to go get the beer cans off my lawn, 'n I need two of you to run down to the corner store 'n get some groceries so our fridge doesn't look like y'all ate me out of house 'n home."

"I'll go get the fallen soldiers, they're prob'ly all mine anyways." Two ducks back out the door with a sheepish grin, catchin' the screen door so it doesn't come off the hinges.

"Me 'n Soda can go get the groceries, we can take the beater." Steve fishes his keys out with one hand 'n grabs Soda by the shirt front with the other.

"Oh, nuh-uh. With my luck, you two would get so distracted I wouldn't see you until three hours after the lady leaves. Soda, you get started on the livin' room. Steve 'n Dallas go get the food. 'N take the truck. At this rate, your beater wouldn't start 'n you'd get stranded in the parkin' lot."

Steve shrugs a shoulder, takes the keys 'n Master Card Darry tosses him 'n Dallas nods, both of them peelin' back out the door. Soda pouts but goes to start pickin' up the clutter without a fight.

Lord, if only they were this agreeable all the time.

Pony 'n Johnny report back to Darry, shakin' the water from the dishes off their hands. "What else do you need, Dar?" Johnny wipes the back of his hands on his jeans, 'n glances around for another job.

"Yeah, Johnnycakes, can you help me with dinner? I want somethin' on that table when they show." Johnny nods 'n Darry ruffles his hair affectionately. "Pony, go get in that shower. You look like you just rolled around in the dirt." 'N he's not even that far off. He's got a smudge of ink right across his nose from whatever he'd been workin' on. Pony scowls but turns 'n goes for the bathroom.

Darry waits until he's shut the door 'n then follows Johnny into the kitchen. "Hey, wanna make that casserole they liked last time?" Leave it to Johnny to remember what meal the child services workers had liked.

"Nah, can't make them think we're doin' anythin' to fancy for 'em."

"Gotcha," Johnny nods 'n opens the cabinet, "so, pasta." Darry chuckles, rufflin' his hair again 'n fallin' in beside him to start the water boilin' on the stove.

At some point durin' their meal prep Dallas 'n Steve return, hoistin' five bags between the two of them, frantically arrangin' 'em in the icebox. Pony slides in, takin' over stirrin' the sauce, hair ungreased 'n curlin' around his ears. Darry drops a kiss to his temple 'n slicks his bangs away from his eyes. Soda takes his place in the bathroom, the shower turnin' back on.

Before Darry realizes it, dinner is plated on the table, the sink is empty, 'n the house is as close to spotless as it ever gets. Relief 'n exhaustion hit Darry like a freight train. They make quick work of packagin' up plates for Two, Steve, Dallas, 'n Johnny 'n Darry squeezes shoulders 'n musses up hair 'n makes them all promise to come back in two hours when the visit is done.

His stomach does an unpleasant twist when Steves's headlights swing out of the driveway. He hates these visits. He truly does. He runs a hand up 'n down his neck nervously, glances at the clock.

Pony's head nestles against his side 'n Darry drops an arm around him, pullin' him in. "We'll be alright, right Dar?" And Darry does what he does best: sound more confident than he feels.

"Yeah, kiddo. We'll be just fine." Soda slides back down the hall in he socks, trippin' n' stumblin' like a foal. "Glory, Soda, please don't bust anythin' before the government folks get here."

"Aw, Dar, you're always ruinin' my fun." Soda grins his wide crooked smile 'n Darry feels Pony relax against his side.

"That's what they pay me for. Now, c'mon 'n eat before it gets cold." Pony pushes himself off Darry 'n Soda grabs him rufflin' his damp hair 'n makin' Pony hoot a laugh. They've just plopped down when there's a knock at the door.

All three of them whip around to look.

Darry shoots them a grin that he hopes doesn't look as nervous as he feels. He blows out a long breath, puts his hand on the knob to open the door, glancin' around one final time to make sure nothin' is out of place when his eyes fall on-. "Oh, glory." He reaches up beside the door 'n yanks out the knife Dallas had pinned the shoppin' list to the wall with. "What am I gonna do with y'all?"

"Keep us!" Soda hollers 'n Pony dissolves into giggles. Darry watches them for a moment, Soda's eyes flashin' 'n the sound of Pony's laugh.

"I'm gonna do my best." 'N he opens the door.

also a tag for being very sweet in the tags this is one of the fics I was cookin' up at work today more to come SOON @horsegirlsodapop ilyyy 😭🫶

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oh hi🥹

(sent from a friend!)

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"Can you hold still?" Soda leans over Darry's stomach, puttin' his full weight into it, and Darry laughs. Soda shoots him an agitated little frown he doesn't mean at all and jabs him matter of factly in the stomach. "It's star day this is important."

Darry rolls his eyes but settles back down. "I can't help it." Soda leans sits back, spins the marker in his hand over his fingers. "I'm ticklish."

"Well, figure it out or I'm gonna sic Pony on you." Darry tips his head back 'n looks at Pony upside down. His youngest brother pulls out a more than passin' imitation of the Darry's glare. Though, he should be good at it. He's seen it nearly every day. Darry reaches up 'n baps him on the head 'n Pony cracks 'n laughs.

He's layin' on his back on the living room floor, Soda at his side and head restin' in Pony's lap. Soda brings the marker back against Darry's ribs and he does his best not to laugh. He only half succeeds until he glances down at Soda's tongue bit between his teeth 'n the furrowed brow he only gets when he's focusin'. It's not funny but glory he looks so much like when he was six 'n drawin' horses at the kitchen table with the concentration of Michael Angelo, Darry can't help but snort.

"Darry!" Soda opens his mouth in mock frustration 'n that just makes Darry laugh harder. "That's it. Pony. Sic 'em."

"Wait-!" Pony worms his hand down before Darry can bat it away 'n jabs him in the ribs. "OW! That's it, you're cut off." He fights to sit up but Soda 'n Pony both jump down on him, howlin' with laughter.

"Nuh uh, mister! I'm not done!" Pony presses both his palms down on Darry's shoulders 'n Darry humors him by pretendin' that it makes any difference in him gettin' up or not.

Soda puts his marker back down 'n Darry valently bites his lip 'n doesn't even squirm. He lasts forty-five seconds. "Soda-"

"Finished!" Soda presses the cap back on 'n tosses it to Pony who snatches it out of the air.

"Can I see?" Soda studies Darry's torso for a second 'n then nods happily. Darry grabs the shavin' mirror Soda offers him 'n admires the nonsensical lines connectin' the freckles dottin' his body from his stomach up to his neck. The ones all the Curtis' only got in summer. He smiles, runs a finger along the ink fondly. "Damn Soda! You went all out this year, huh! Care to, uh, explain?"

Soda grins at Pony and points to six freckles on his side. Darry tilts his head 'n furrows his brow. "One guess on this one." Oh, well that narrowed it down.

"That one Pony's?"

"Ding ding ding!" Whenever Soda drew constellations he always managed one for Pony, a horse, 'n one for himself, a pop bottle. If Darry squinted he could see it. He could also see a dog, cat, 'n just about any four-legged animal with a tail but he would keep that to himself.

"Where's yours, Soda?" Soda points to a sort of temple that started on his collarbone 'n ended on his shoulder. It takes Darry a moment longer but he can pick out the vague shape of the bottle.

"Alright, now the rest of 'em." Soda carefully explains each one, two more horses, naturally, a fish, Orion's belt, a wonky set of three dots along a rib, a lasso, 'n two little smilies. Darry carefully traces each one, more than a little impressed by how his brothers could take a handful of random dots 'n find so many little pictures.

"My turn!" Pony jabbed Darry in the side 'n took his place on the floor. He slaps nearly every pocket before he refinds the marker, handin' it over to Darry with a mischievous lil' grin to Soda.

He pulls his t-shirt straight over his head even though most of his freckles are clustered on his arms 'n face. He never picked up his brother's tendency to walk around all summer in no shirt. Dallas always made teased him for that. Glory, Pony's playin' modest 'n makin' the rest of us look like whores. 'N Two would always howl well if the shoe fits! 'N then duck out of Dallas' grip fast as he could. Only Soda 'n Darry knew the real reason. The kid didn't tan one bit. No siree, Pony burned.

He lays flat on the floor, eyes closed, Soda playin' with hair idly. Darry picks up Pony's arm 'n twists it, lookin' for anythin' that sticks out to him. Darry always did Pony's. Pony enjoyed just layin' there 'n Darry needed more time to study where the dots could become shapes. Pony would do Soda's since, out of all of them, the kid had an imagination that could spin 'n spin 'n spit out ideas 'n drawin's n' stories the fastest. 'N Soda had an incredibly short patience for not movin'.

"Hey, look." Soda brushes back Pony's bangs 'n gently traces a jagged line across his forehead. "Hand me that." Before Pony can swat his hand away Soda's connected the freckles from one temple to the other so they form a mountain range across his skin.

"Our little prince, huh." Pony opens one eye 'n glares down at Darry but his oldest brother is just lookin' at him with that fond little smile he gets.

"Oh c'mon." He wriggles around on the carpet 'n gets nothin' for his troubles but rugburn. "Hurry uppppp."

"You sound like me now, Pone." Soda ruffles his hair 'n Pony reaches up blindly with his free arm to swing at him.

"Well, maybe I'd be done faster if you'd stop wigglin'." They drift into a soft silence, Soda standin' up halfway through to cue up the Beatles' latest record, The White Album, which had been a joint birthday gift for Darry last month. Half of the gift had been them toleratin' Darry's affinity for that McCartney kid's weepy grandma songs.

"Alright, I think I'm done." Pony jolts up, grinnin' down at his arms.

"Lemme see, lemme see." Darry twists the mirror around so he can see the back of his biceps, pointin' out what was what.

"Look, this is Soda's." Darry's linked four freckles into an elongated diamond 'n penned in DX. Soda cracks up, twistin' Pony's arms so he can see better 'n forgettin' it's attached to the kid.

"You're a walkin' ad, kid! They should hire you!" Pony snatches his arm back 'n wrinkles his nose up.

"'N work with Steve? Yeah, hard pass." Soda howls 'n Pony tries 'n fails to look put out.

"Hey, this must be yours, Dar." Soda positions the mirror so Pony can better see the lopsided Superman logo on the back of his shoulder.

"Yup, but this one's my favorite." Down the hollow of Pony's throat 'n up under his jaw are three little stick figures all facin' different directions.

"Hey! That's us, right?" Darry ruffles his hair and drops a kiss to the freckle on his temple that makes up the end of his crown.

"Yup," He shoots Soda a grin 'n wiggles his eyebrows conspiratorially, "the shrimpy one is you."

"They're sticks! They all look the same!" Soda grabs him by the chin so he can get a better look.

"Nope, Darry's right." He nods solemnly. "The good lookin' on is me." Pony shoves him off 'n he lands on his ass. Darry hoots a laugh 'n manhandles Soda so his head is restin' on Darry's knee.

"See, Soda gets my creative vision." Soda peeks up at him, upside down, 'n cackles.

"Oh shut up." Pony snatches the marker from Darry 'n instantly goes to work. Soda starts squirmin' less than a minute in 'n Darry leans over 'n flips the TV on, an episode of Scooby-Doo is playin' 'n Soda grins 'n crains his neck to watch.

"You got our north star this year, Pepsi." Darry taps Soda on the tip of his nose where one single fair freckle stands out against his tan skin.

"No kiddin'? Pony's had it the last three years, the hog." Pony sticks his tongue out 'n goes back to drawin'.

The episode's not even half over before Pony nods, self-satisfied. "Alright, c'mere."

"Oh my God, Pony, why do we even try?" Pony's blushes, the tips of his ears goin' red.

"They're just doodles."

"Do I need to bring up Soda's horse?"

"Hey-!"

Pony's joined vast groups of freckles into three distinct shapes across Soda's chest 'n stomach. A horse, that looks far more identifiable than Soda's drawin', across his side, a record 'n the player on Soda's left ribs, a map of some of the actual constellations Pony would drag them outside on clear nights to point out over Soda's heart. Darry can pick out the big dipper, one of the triangles, 'n the bear.

"Wait, this one's my favorite." He points to two little hearts on each side of Soda's face made from four little freckles each.

Soda twists this way 'n that gigglin' between the horse 'n the freckles. "God, Pone, you missed your callin' as an artist."

"Damn straight!" Darry laughs 'n pulls both his kid brothers in tight for a hug. Pony whines but buries his head in Darry's chest beside Soda. "Well, I dunno about y'all but I'm hungry after all that."

Soda whoops already clamberin' off the floor 'n divin' for the keys before Darry can get to them. "Dairy Queen!"

Pony throws his shirt back on, carefully rollin' up the sleeves so Darry's Superman logo can still be seen. Darry reaches over 'n pulls him in for another hug.

"You sure you don't wanna wipe any of that off?" Pony gestures to the mess of marker 'n Darry laughs, brushin' Pony's hair back.

Soda's already climbed in the truck, shirt still off 'n Pony's drawin's on full display.

"Hell no! I got stars to show off."

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CW! needle n blood mention!! nothing graphic!! Just the sillies!!

When Darry pulls up in front of the house, the living room windows are thrown wide open. There's a breeze shifting the curtains gently back 'n forth 'n he can can just quietly hear the sounds of Dallas, Soda, Steve, Two, 'n Johnny from inside. Darry cuts the engine 'n rests his head against the truck door, window still rolled down.

He liked doin' this now 'n then. Pullin' up 'n just listenin'. Though Pony had accused him of bein' nosy, 'n it had come in handy a few times when Steve 'n Pony had gotten into fights since Pony was incapable of recountin' events without makin' himself sound better 'n Steve often acted like Pony was committin' a cardinal sin just by existin'. However, more often than not, Darry just liked to listen to 'em foolin' around. He was like his mama in that sense. She'd always loved just bein' in the kitchen when he would be horsin' around with the boys in the living room. Darry had never got it back then, but he could understand now.

'N then there were times like today.

"OUCH!" Pony hollers at the top of his lungs, followed quickly by Soda shushin' him.

"Oh hush, you're fine." Dallas dismisses the kid but Darry's already out 'n slammin' the truck door.

"Oh shit, was that Darry?'

"Pony shh you're fine-"

"Shit that's a lot of blood, is it supposed to bleed that much?" Darry throws open the front door 'n is greeted with the general sounds of all five boys rustlin' around.

"What the hell is goin' on here?" Pony's half crawled up in Soda's lap, starin' resolutely at the wall away from Darry. "Pony lemme see right now."

Pony glances over at him 'n Darry feels vomit crawl up his throat, throwin' his fist up in front of his mouth like he could push it back. Pony's got a needle juttin' through one nostril, blood pourin' down his face. Once Darry's gotten a look at him Pony immediately gives up the facade 'n throws himself at Darry.

"It huuurts!" Darry grabs him by the shoulders 'n holds him at arm's length. It's really not all that bad, if Darry has to guess they just managed to stick a vein 'n that's why he's bleedin' like a stuck pig. He pulls Pony in, adjustin' his head so he's turned to the side.

"Anyone wanna explain?" 'N now that he's really lookin' at them he realizes somethin' else.

"Uh, Darry?"

"Hey, man-"

"So, the thing is-"

"Oh my God." Soda's got a piece of ice chipped off the ice box pressed to his ear, where a silver stud is glintin'. Steve tries to tilt his face away but Darry catches the matchin' one in the top of his left ear. Two grins twistin' the ring through his lip. Dallas wiggles his eyebrow 'n then winces, the bar they've shoved through apparently still sore. That only left-

"Johnny. Do I wanna ask?" Darry fixes him with a stern glare 'n Johnny pales, glances at Dallas, 'n sticks out his tongue where they've managed to jab yet another earrin' through.

"Oh my God!" Darry digs his hands into Pony's shoulders 'n Pony winces. "Dallas Winston, you get that needle out of his nose, I'm gonna get the peroxide." Darry spins Pony around 'n gives him a none too gentle shove towards Dallas. He's grabbin' the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet when he hears Pony howl again 'n this time he doesn't feel nearly as bad.

When he returns to the living room they're all lined up, (mostly) shamefaced. Johnny's starin' down at the carpet, occasionally stickin' his tongue out to push the piercin' against his teeth 'n furrow his brow. He's rubbin' a hand between Pony's shoulders as Pony pouts Soda's twiddlin' his ear between his fingers 'n tryin' hard to not laugh. Steve's got his ears pinched between his fingers, moanin'. Two's still smirkin' a little 'n bitin' back on a snort every time he catches Soda's eye. Of the bunch, the only one without the decency to at least pretend to be remorseful is Dallas. Of course.

"Anyone wanna fess up?" Suddenly the walls, celin', 'n floor are infinitely more interestin' than usual. "Fine then, I'm gonna enjoy this. Pony, c'mere." Pony reluctantly shrugs off Johnny's hand 'n Soda 'n Two send him salutes like he was walkin' to the gallows.

Darry rolls his eyes, takin' him by the shoulder 'n guidin' him to the kitchen sink. "This is gonna hurt, sorry kiddo." He tilts his head over the drain 'n pours peroxide onto the pinprick hole through his nose. Pony wails like he was bein' shot. Darry lets out an almighty sigh.

"Glory, Pony, is he skinnin' you in there?" Two cracks 'n Darry leans back so he can see him through the doorway.

"You watch it or you're next, Two-Bit Mathews." Two throws his hands up in mock surrender 'n Soda stifles a laugh.

"Hey, a man just wants to know what he's got comin' to him."

"A kick in the ass if you don't shut up." Two clutches both hands to his heart 'n swoons into Soda's arms. Soda, who wasn't prepared even a little, immediately drops him. Steve howls. Darry rolls his eyes again 'n focuses back on Pony.

"Now hold still." He wets a paper towel 'n makes quick work of cleanin' up the dried blood. Pony pouts but doesn't fight back. "Now whose fool idea was this?"

Pony bites his lip, darts a glance into the living room. "No one." Darry whacks him a good one around the head 'n Pony whines again.

"Well, no one is about to earn everyone an ass kickin'." Pony hmphs but doesn't look like he's gonna offer any other explanation so Darry grabs him by the ear 'n leads him back into the living room, droppin' him unceremoniously on the couch. Steve chuckles 'n Pony flips him off.

He takes another good look at them 'n clocks Soda's still bleedin' a little so he snaps him up next 'n marches him to take his place at the sink.

"RIP Sodapop Curtis." Dallas mutters 'n Two 'n Steve snicker.

"Lilies at my funeral guys, Lillies." Soda calls over his shoulder 'n Darry gives him the same clip he gave Pony.

"You got anythin' to add?" Soda blinks up at him from where Darry has him craned down in the sink.

"You're lookin' mighty tired, maybe your favorite brother could offer you a back rub 'n we could pretend nothin' happened?" Soda tries for his best charmin' grin 'n Darry raises an eyebrow.

"Wrong answer." Darry pours the bottle out again 'n Soda hisses. "I expect you to use your head, lil buddy. Maybe I'd reckon this from Two or Dallas." He raises his voice a little so the offendin' parties can hear 'n they both make the huff indignantly.

"But you should know better. Pony too. 'N Johnny."" Pony whines wordlessly from the couch 'n Darry barrels on. He doesn't mention Steve. Though he'd expect better from him alone the two followed each other into trouble more than out of it. Darry pauses, pulls Soda out of the sink, pushin' his bangs away 'n studyin' the piercin'. Now that he thinks of it, he hasn't heard anythin' from Johnny.

"You ok, kid?" There's half a second ok silence 'n then both Two 'n Dallas crack up.

"Uh Dar, I think the kid's havin' some trouble talkin'." Both Darry 'n Soda lean dangerously far back to see Johnny through the doorway. The kid is frantically noddin', dark curls boppin' across his forehead.

"I'm good." He answers but it comes out closer to thood. He immediately sticks his tongue out, silver bar gleamin', like the word tastes bad in his mouth.

The room, minus Darry, clingin' to seriosity by his fingertips, instantly dissolves into laughter. Darry snorts 'n quickly muffles it behind a cough. He releases Soda 'n points a finger to the space beside Pony on the couch. Soda plops down, takin' Pony's face in his hands 'n turnin' it this way 'n that.

"Think it'll scar?"

"I'd be more worried about the mark Darry's gonna leave on your ass if I were you." Pony shoves him off but Soda just laughs.

"C'mere, kiddo." Darry beckons a finger to Johnny 'n he pales. "I ain't gonna hurt you, hon. Ignore Soda." Soda gasps 'n Pony chucks a throw pillow at him.

He sits the kid down at the table 'n reaches into the ice box, breakin' off a chunk of the crystals around the sides. "Put that in your mouth. It'll stop hurtin' after a while." Johnny takes it gratefully. Darry watches him a moment more before returnin' to the living room. "Alright Dallas, get in here."

He makes quick work of the final three, who shed no further light on the situation. By the time he's got them all back on the couch he's gettin' dangerously close to stringin' them all up 'n callin' it a night.

"I'm goin' to take care of Johnny 'n if by the time I'm done y'all don't have a better answer to what compelled you all to this foolishness none of y'all will be steppin' out of this house but to go to work or school for the next two weeks, y'hear me?" The group nods sullenly 'n Darry turns on his heel back to the kitchen. Glory, he hopes they come up with somethin'. Havin' all six of 'em crowded in for that long might actually be more of a punishment for Darry.

"Alright kid, ready?" Johnny's lookin' a little sick but he nods again. Darry hands him the last dregs of the peroxide. "Don't swallow it, alright? Just swish it around for a minute 'n then spit it out." Johnny takes it, dutifully puttin' it in his mouth 'n wincin'. Darry tilts his head forward so he doesn't choke. He can hear the others frantically whisperin' in the other room 'n hopes for a good sign. Johnny's eyes keep dartin' back 'n forth between the doorway 'n Darry.

After a minute Darry hauls him up 'n leads him to the sink to spit. The second his mouth it empty he whips around with wide eyes.

"It wath my id-uh." Darry's jaw falls open 'n Johnny barrels on. "I'm thorry! I though it would be thuff. 'N Da-th-as already had the th-erwlry I'm thorry!" He stops solely to stick his tongue out again like he couldn't get used to the feelin'. He's still blinkin' at Darry with big eyes, bitin' at his lip like he's worries he's gonna pop him one. Darry's silent for a long moment before he can't help it anymore.

"Johnny Cade, what the hell am I gonna do with you." 'N he's suddenly laughin' so hard his ribs hurt. When he finally manages to stop howlin' the others have filed into the kitchen, Dallas has an arm slung around Johnny's shoulders 'n Johnny's lookin' only microscopically more relaxed.

"Well, that's that huh!" Two pulls the ice box open 'n pulls out the cake Soda had made last night.

"Oh absolutely not it isn't. Y'all are still on lockdown for the next week for not usin' your heads."

"Aw Darrr-"

"C'monnn-"

"Darryy-"

"Oh no, I won't hear anythin' about it." Dallas elbows Two in the ribs 'n they both get convinin' grins on their faces.

"Well, at least you'll be trapped in here with us." Soda hoots 'n Steve grins 'n they exchange a mischievous glance like they're already cookin' up some scheme.

"Oh, no siree. I'm gonna be out havin' myself a good ol' time without you bunch." Pony shrugs a shoulder 'n shoots him a dismissive scoff.

"Then whose gonna make us stay here 'n behave?" Steve elbows him hard 'n Pony yelps.

"Well," Darry reaches over 'n cuts himself a heapin' slice of the cake. "Johnny's your ringleader now, dealin' with y'all is punishment enough!"

[lychee-nom]

the father son and holy spirit of peril photos btw