#Keys to Tulsa

[jtspaderstills]

Keys to Tulsa (1997)

[ds9slut]

Having a James Spader movie marathon tonight cause I'm home alone ;) and guys. RONNIE STOVER??? I'm sorry how is he SO frickin' hot??? The muscles. The skintight leather pants. HIS EARRING OMG AND THE HAIR??

[jimmyspades]

James in late 1994/early 1995

[motleyfam]

i juat want you to know that "settle our bones" pulled me out of not only a depressive episode but a creative block too!! can't wait to read the next installments if you plan to continue the series 🫶

I’m so glad it was able to inspire you! That’s so awesome to hear ❤️🥺

[marmie-noir]

i’m dying laughing at ur tag #if i write smut for a used care saleman i will perish 😂

WHEN I TELL YOU I SPUN OUT AFTER THE LAST EPISODE AND CALLED MY BESTIE NOT PLEASED.

She was cackling at me. Truly, rude.

So I beg, Paramount. BEG. PLEASE DO NOT MAKE IT SO I HAVE WRITTEN SMUT FOR A USED CAR SALESMAN. PLEASE!!!

[thatnerdliv]

Just watched Keys to Tulsa and it was amazing and Can we talk about James Spader with This hair 😍😍😍😍 like

👏Are 👏You👏Kidding👏 Me ♥️

[lizzy019]

Is it wrong that I now kinda low-key am craving a Dally x ovulating reader now... Like... Sorry but your work is so good... Love you and ur writing!!

Thanks lovely! I try hard ❤️✨

~~~~~~~~~ 18+ ~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~ 18+ ~~~~~~~~~

Dally vaguely knew of what women had to go through monthly, but he didn't know a lot.

All he knew was that girls bled, nothing more. But when you informed him there was such a thing called "ovulating", he had to double take.

"Ovulating? The hell is that?" He asked as you drove down the streets of Tulsa, picking him up from a party he didn't want to be at.

"Ovulating is typically when a girl gets a bit overly horny for a week before their periods start. Some get it really strong, some get it really weak. I know I get mine really strong. " You chuckled, parking into your house's driveway and sighing as you unbuckled.

"So wait, lemme get this right," He started, stepping out of the car and blowing out a cloud of his excess smoke while following you. "Ovulating is like, a week of sex or something?"

You laughed as you unlocked your front door, nodding your head as you opened it and let him inside first. He shook his head, insisting he'd finish his smoke outside.

That was... oddly kind of him.

"Well, if you wanna think of it in a desperate way, yes. It's a week of sex." You teased him, watching him stomp out the cig that he deemed now useless and walking inside your home.

Dally scoffed at your crude insult, playfully shoving you as he marched to retrieve some food.

"So... are you ovulating?" He asked incredulously, his eyes narrowing a little as he purloined your fridge's insides.

With a hesitant expression, you nodded.

"Yes, I'm ovulating. I'm lucky it hasn't come to bite my ass and beg me to fuck someone." You chuckled, watching him eye the fridge and settle on snagging one of your parents' beer.

With help from the tiny tool found near the fridge, he popped the bottle open and took a swig before looking at you knowingly.

"So are you gonna give me a week of sex?" Dally asked, a sneaky smile gracing his pretty lips.

You barked a laugh, shaking your head out of disappointment and shrugging shortly after. You found yourself reaching for a beer as well, opening it albeit with some struggle until you could finally get some of the alcohol into your mouth.

"Do you want a week of sex, Dally? I don't think your balls could handle that." You chuckled, watching him set the beer bottle down and snagging yours as well.

It seems your words may have touched a nerve.

"You insultin' my balls? So what if I want sex? If I get some with you, I'll be graced with a bit of heaven. You wanna do it? You wanna try me?" He asked, his hot breath tickling your face as you smirked in response.

The little smile twitching at your lips was all the answer he needed. Soon enough, your pants were being pulled down, and his were being unbuttoned. Seriously though, in the kitchen?

You didn't complain. You were forced to have your back facing him and over the counter, but it was more comforting knowing he wouldn't see all the weird faces you could make.

Your panties were now riding just above your knees along with your pants, and Dally's fingers had worked their way into your tight little cunt. It had a soft, almost whispery moan flutter from your throat, and your hips bucked back into his hand.

"Nuh-uh, sweetheart, keep still," He hummed, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck and chuckling. "I gotta open you up, not make you feel good."

That sentence made you whine quietly in growing desperation, and you fought to deep your hips still no matter how much you wanted to crash them back into his hand for friction.

Soon enough, his fingers were removed from your pussy, and the sudden emptiness made you slouch a bit. But not to worry, Dally replaced his fingers with his cock. His leaky tip was pressed against your labia until it penetrated its way through, jabbing your cervix in a mean kiss.

It had the softest but sweetest moans tumbling from your mouth, and it was safe to say that Dally was getting off to how pliant and plush your cunt was.

"Oh! Dal- Dally, go faster, please!" You whined, reaching your hand to claw at his shoulder even if it was awkward in your position.

He did as you asked, pounding into just a bit faster. The new rhythm he set was really getting you off, and you truly didn't know how much longer you could last. But did you tell him? No. What's the point in doing that?

Your bodies were now swaying in tune with the pace he'd set, and slowly the cord in your stomach began to grow tight. Your pussy clamped down onto his cock like a vice, holding him as you found yourself climbing the steps of pure passion.

But did he take this as a sign to slow down?

...No.

Dally's thrusts grew more sporadic, less calculated and more set on getting you both to that desired place known as heaven on Earth. It was amazing, really. Your poor cunt just sucking him in and dripping liquid arousal into your panties that rested so calmly just above your knees.

It didn't take long until the cord in your lower belly snapped, and your pussy clenched just hard enough to get Dally to cum too. It was messy, yes. But it felt so heavenly that you were sure no amount of mess could ever take away from how the moment felt.

It was all huffs and puffs afterward, heaving for air and sighing it out until you were both calm enough to speak.

"I get a whole week of this? Goddamn, forget my hand." He smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to your jaw and moving your sweated hair from your face.

"Shut up, you're cleaning the mess." You chided playfully, accepting his little kiss wholeheartedly as you wobbled to clean yourself up.

It was safe to say that Dally was now fully educated on the subject.

[wardenparker]

Mitch Keller + "Dance with me", pls? Love the TF boys in other things 2!!!

Mitch Keller. 1,665 words. "Dance with me." Co-written with @absurdthirst

Light undertones of dom!Mitch. Boss/employee dynamic. Mutual pining. The love is requited, they're just idiots. Garrett Hedlund as Mitch Keller is desperately underrated and I can't wait for season 2 of Tulsa King.

The bar is like a whole different place after closing. Every single night, without fail, the place goes from noisy and energetic to just being the two of you. Loud and buzzing becomes quiet and comfortable as soon as you cross the threshold after closing time. Two in the morning would be a lonely time for most people. Maybe it ought to be. Maybe it even is for Mitch Keller. You can’t be sure. But for you, two in the morning is the time you like most. When you get to be alone with the man you’ve been in love with for years.

Despite wiping down the bar top countless times during the night, there’s still a sticky film to be cleaned. Spilled liquor and beer from varying degrees of coordinated hands. Mitch knows you are watching him as the old jukebox plays and he wonders what you are thinking.

You really have to stop staring at your boss. Shit’s gonna get your fired for harassment one of these days. The music clicks over, jolting you out of your head and reminding you to clean. The floor isn’t going to sweep itself and it doesn’t matter how good Mitch’s ass look in those jeans. You’ll think about it later like you always do. But not here. Not now.

Despite the patrons paying for the songs that come over the old stereo. Mitch has a key that lets the two of you listen for free. Programming at least an hour’s worth of songs while you decompress and clean up. It had been a good night, but there’s this electric tension in the air.

Sometimes you share a single drink while you clean. Sometimes you chat about the day or about Mitch’s dad, who is the kindest landlord in the world and the reason you have this job. Sometimes you joke or bitch or play around. Tonight it seems like wanting him has you in a strangle-hold, though, so when Patsy Cline comes on the jukebox, you almost groan for the irony.

“You doing alright over there?” Mitch asks, tossing the rag into a bin and propping his hands on his trim hips.

“What?” You were staring again. Into space this time, but staring nonetheless. “Uh—yeah. Fine. Totally fine,” you lie, shaking your head and shoulders and starting to sweep again. Daydreaming — middle of the night dreaming? — about your boss needs to wait until you get home.

He chuckles and shakes his head, amazed that you don’t just give in and tell him already. The hooded glances and yearning looks only go so far and if he were a betting man – which he is – he would say you were daydreaming again. “Let’s get finished early.” He tells you. “Got something I want to do.”

“Oh—oh sure.” Something to do in the wee hours of the morning? You try not to wonder if that ex-girlfriend of his has come crawling back again, knowing that it isn’t any of your business and you have no right to be jealous even if she is. Instead you pick up the pace with an unnerved and slightly anxious energy, determined not to think about it.

Mitch caps off the beer taps and groans. “I’ve got to restock the coolers.” He tells you. “You okay to mop?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” After years in this job you could probably close the whole bar down with your eyes closed, and you nod rather than look him in the eyes, afraid to give yourself away. “If you need to go, I can finish up alone.”

“No, I’m just going to be in the back for a few minutes.” He clarifies and tosses you a grin. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone. You know that.”

“I’ll be right here when you’re done.” Without him standing there distracting you, you’ll probably work three times faster, but it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault you’re a grown woman with a completely impossible crush — it’s more than that but you can’t deal with that right now — on a man who’s so far out of your league that it’s remarkable he even remembers your name.

Mitch disappears into the back, not quite telling the truth about why he had to go back there, but he needs to bide his time. To get you finished up before he came back out.

It doesn't take you long to actually get things sorted out up front. When you had thought that you could clean this place with your eyes closed, you meant it. The jukebox turns to more upbeat songs and you work through it, reminding yourself to just get the hell through the night so you can go home and get him out of your head for a few hours. At least until you have to be back here tomorrow night. Just breathe, and sing along with Leann Rimes on the jukebox to keep yourself amused. That's what you'll do.

In the back, Mitch has basically made himself a little apartment. He doesn't need much and the bar is literally his baby, so he cleans up quickly, wanting to freshen up. When he comes back out, you have just put everything away and are obviously waiting on him to return. The song fades out and slower one starts to pour out of the speakers. "You're done." He hums quietly.

"I've had practice." It's the closest you can get to teasing him tonight, with your head swimming and your palms a little sweaty. You're not your normally boisterous self.

"You do a good job." He praises, walking closer to you and when he's right in front of you, he stops. "So I was wondering if you would do something for me." He ventures softly.

"Of course." No hesitation, no consideration. You would do anything for him.

Smiling, he holds out his hand. “Dance with me.” He orders softly, stepping closer for you to accept his offer.

“I—what?” Somehow your hand has gone up on its own, hovering over his before you even manage to process what he’s asked.

“Dance with me.” He repeats, an amused twinkle in his eyes and a curve of his lips making him appear boyish.

It’s like your brain short circuits even while your body obeys, hand settling lightly in his and feet stepping forward while your mind works in overdrive to understand. You can’t stop yourself from blurting out “Why?” despite the moment being your literal dream come true.

“Because you never ask.” He reasons easily. “And how can I kiss you without a dance first?”

Thankfully the noise that strangles in your throat is more of a squeak than a squawk, and you swallow it before it can become anything absurd or humiliating. From somewhere in the background you can hear Trisha Yearwood on the jukebox and you might be shaking a little, but your other hand finds Mitch’s shoulder just well enough that you don’t stumble. “You…” You start to catch up to the moment as he starts to move to the music, and the surprise on your face is as obvious as your breathlessness. “You…want to kiss me?”

“Been thinking about how you taste.” He admits as he moves you around the open area of the bar. Skirting the tables that now have chairs flipped up on their tops. “Have for a while.”

“I’m…” Embarrassed heat floods your cheeks, warming your entire face right down your neck and chest. “I’m even less subtle than I think I am…aren’t I?”

“‘Bout as subtle as a rattler warning off a poor bastard walkin’ barefoot.” Mitch grins at you.

“Super.” You huff at yourself, sarcasm dripping from both syllables like honey. “Thank you for bein’ nice to my dumb ass, then.”

“Wondered why you took so long.” Mitch admits. “Got impatient, so I decided to make the move.”

“Sort of thought I was invisible to you,” you admit quietly, letting him lead you through basic steps even though you know damn well the man has moves. It’s you who can’t dance for shit, so he’s being nice again.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Dead wrong.” He tells you. “Just didn’t want you to think I was a creepy boss.”

“I was the creepy employee instead, I guess,” you huff, needing to laugh so that you don’t let your cheeks get as hot as a volcano.

“Thought it was kind of cute, myself.” Mitch drawls. “But….” He lifts a brow at you teasingly. “If we’re gonna do this—” he pulls his hand off your waist to motion between the two of you, “you gotta initiate sometimes. Can’t just be me chasin’ you.” He winks. “You gotta chase back.”

Being thoroughly embarrassed but elated are apparently two sides of the same coin for you, as there is no competition between expressions on your face — just one bright, disbelieving smile that makes you feel lighter than air. “If I had known you felt this way, I would’ve said something a long time ago.”

“It all works out in the end.” He promises, smirking at you softly. The music plays and the two of you sway around the bar, getting comfortable with the closeness of your bodies pressed together.

“Suppose so.” It’s whole actual years of yearning on your part, but you’re not about to second guess this moment. Not by a long shot. Not when he fits even more perfectly against you than you’d dreamed. “Suppose it’s all about what happens next.”

“Yeah.” The songs slowly starts to fade out and he comes to a stop with you still in his arms. “So.” He murmurs, lifting a brow. “What do you want to happen next?”

“I believe…” You quirk your head at him and feel your cheeks heat up all over again. “A kiss was mentioned?”

“Yes it was.” He flashes you a roguish grin and leans on, nudging your nose with his. “So, sweetheart…dance with me.” He orders right before he presses his lips to yours.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[sci-fi-disney-prince]

Garrett Hedlund Mini March Fic Madness

In honor of March Madness, I created this master list of Garrett Hedlund character fanfics and may update it even after March. This may not be mobile/tablet-friendly.

Note: This may not have all of the stories posted on Tumblr and/or elsewhere since I am only one person and could only find as much as I can and unfortunately get distracted by Garrett along the way.

Also, these do not belong to me. These stories belong to these lovely fanfic writers credited below and to the people behind the original source material. Do keep in mind that many of these fanfics are targeted for 18 years of age and older, so reader discretion is advised.

Tagged: @the-blind-assassin-12 (the person behind March Fic Madness 2024)

Key: ❤️‍🔥 = Smut(ty)/Explicit 🍬 = Fluff ❤️‍🩹 = Angst

Updated as of May 5, 2024

Sci-fi-Disney-prince’s G.H. Corner coming soon

Special Events

@/triplefrontier-anniversary (A fanfic and art event to celebrate Triple Frontier's 5th anniversary which is run by @romanarose and @for-a-longlongtime that goes from March 1st-March 14th. Take out the slash to go to their page)

Masterlists

Mitch Keller x F!OC Waitress Oneshot Masterlist by @marmie-noir [Content warning: violence, sex, and 18+ content] ❤️‍🔥

TriFRambles’ Masterlist by @triframbles

Delta Landscaping Mainlist by @rhoorl ❤️‍🔥

Benny Miller Masterlist by @dameronscopilot [some 🍬, some ❤️‍🔥]

Garrett Hedlund Masterlist by @dameronscopilot 🍬❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

Benjamin "Benny" Miller Masterlist by @musings-of-a-rose [Some Fluff, Some Angst, Some Smut, some all of the above]

FishBen Rec List by @thirstworldproblemss [Some fluff, some angst, some smut, some all of the above]

phoenixhalliwell Masterlist by @phoenixhalliwell [includes Triple Frontier guys x Gender Neutral!reader]

Individual Stories

Triple Frontier

"Every Kiss Begins With A Mistletoe" by @kittyofalltrades [Santi and Benny x Reader] ❤️‍🔥

"Not So Silent Night" by @kittyofalltrades [Benny x Reader]❤️‍🔥

"Office Party Love" by @kittyofalltrades [Benny x Reader] 🍬

Sleepy Benny by @pilothusband [Benny x Reader] 🍬

"I’m gonna keep you in love with me for a while" by @pilothusband [Benny x Reader] ❤️‍🔥

"An Unexpected Discovery" by @pilothusband [Benny x Reader]❤️‍🔥

"Benny's Favorite Librarian" by @kittyofalltrades [Benny x Reader]❤️‍🔥

"Before I Go" by @cowboystokes (deactivated) [Benny x Black!Reader (Co-Parents)]

"Drunk Poetry" by @violentdelightsandviolentends [Benny x female reader - Content warning: cursing and alcohol mention] 🍬

"I see my shot" by @writefightandflightclub [Benny x female reader - Content warnings: alcohol, mildly steamy making-out, swearing, “unrequited” feelings and implied possible public sex acts (fade to black).] ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

"I've loved you three summers now, honey, I want them all." by @bullet-prooflove [Benny x Reader]

"Disinhibition" by @busycryin [Benny x Reader - Content warning: Injury, bad words, mentions of sex] 🍬

"Slow Motion" by @miss-beep-beep [Benny x Viet!OFC - Content Warning - some cursing and kisses] 🍬❤️‍🩹

Four Brothers

"Hopper saves a boy’s pieces, Joyce puts him back together" by @imeanwhynotbruv (Jack Mercer Stranger Things AU/crossover - TW: abuse)

"Number" by @jackmercerenthuiast (Jack Mercer x Reader - Content warning: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, suggestive language, and gang violence)

Tron: Legacy

"Masks" by @ivorydragoness44 [Sam Flynn x Reader] ❤️‍🩹

"iii. morning kisses. waking up next to your significant other and pulling them up and capturing their lips to yours." by @solar-siren [Sam Flynn x Tron] 🍬

Tulsa King

More from other movies/shows/projects in the new masterlist

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Starting a reblog game: RB w/ your own outsiders OC!

if enough folks do, I’ll draw them together or something lol, it’ll be fun!

So these are blatant self inserts for my sister and me

(Info & backstories under the cut because I’ve put waaaay too much thought into this)

and again, pls do reblog/tag me w/ your own Outsiders original/self insert characters! (Drawings and/or written descriptions!) Making OCs was one of my favorite things to do as a kid, so I figured it’d be fun to bring it back here lol

(And to reiterate- if enough of ya’ll do this I’ll draw ‘em all together like a greaser-sona gang! So don’t be shy ok??)

-got sent to Tulsa from Seattle in 1961 at ages 13 and 11 to live with their mildly neglectful uncle, due to their mother getting cancer and being unable to properly care for them. Their father was lost at sea when they were little, so they had no one else to go to.

-in Tulsa they go by their mother’s surname, Biondi, instead of their father’s, because interracial marriage isn’t legalized in Oklahoma until ‘67. They try to pass as just Italian. This works better for Naomi, who takes more after their mother than their father in looks.

-Naomi is good friends w/ Ponyboy- she relates to him a lot, from the dislike of fighting to the love for sunsets (legit Ponyboy reminds me of my sister so much irl) (She’s also low-key got a crush on him and Sodapop which is pretty funny)

-Jesse is closer to Two-Bit, Dally, Steve, and Soda. And he really likes fights. They’re exciting and make him feel tough. When he stops to think about it it does make him a little uneasy how much he’s grown to like them, but usually he just ignores that

-Naomi disapproves of crime. Jesse used to oppose it too, but the more time he spends without good role models and parental figures, the more his morels loosen. Tries hard to be a good example for Naomi though

-Jesse met the gang through Sodapop originally- they were thirteen and some Socs were jumping Soda, and Jesse jumped in and helped him out. Soda explained to him what the deal with Socs and greasers is, because there’s no greasers up North

-Naomi met the gang separately through being classmates with Ponyboy. They were working together on a school project, one with him writing and her drawing

-So Jess and Naomi spent a solid few months hanging out with different members of the same gang, completely unaware they had the same group. They eventually end up running into each other at the Curtis house, and both are totally shocked. Two-Bit, who knew the whole time, nearly died laughing

-Naomi is friends with both Socs and greasers, because she isn’t really either- she’s financially a greaser, but she has a crazy high GPA for someone who has ADHD and dyslexia in the 60s, and besides that, she just doesn’t like what she sees as pointless rivalry

-Jess loves pointless rivalry. At least until people start getting hurt. Then he starts to get angry.

[cranberrv]

fic with dally teaching the reader how to drive?

never let me go

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which you and dallas go for a drive

( not proofread , swearing, lowercase intended )

when you were with dallas, you felt free. he was so reckless, so hardcore, and completely bananas. you loved to tag along on his stupid adventures, and now, your new outing is to check on ponyboy and johnny at the church that they’re hiding out in.

“you know how to drive, doll?” he asks you after picking you up, tossing you the keys. “buck won’t let me drive this beauty, but he trusts you.”

you laugh. “well he’s stupid to trust me, because i can’t drive.”

“you’re kiddin’,” he can’t hold his dumb smirk back. the endearing smirk that he gives you whenever he’s about to do something you won’t like. “c’mon, try it then, sweetie.”

“no way, dal,” you shake your head, but he’s already taken your spot in the passengers seat. “i’ll kill you, i’ll crash the car or something, i dunno-“

“i trust ya, stop freakin’ out,” he interuppts, dismissive of your worries. “i’ll teach ya how to work everythin’.”

you debate, but nod and sit in the drivers seat. gosh, it really was more intimidating up there.

“it’s pretty simple, hun,” he starts out. “pedal to your left is your clutch, it’ll make the car drive, pedal in your middle is your break, and pedal to your right is gas. you’d be stupid to not figure it out.” he looks back at you after showing you the pedals, and see’s your expression. “no, no, no, don’t give me that look. you’ll be fine. i’ll hold the wheel for ya.”

he directs you further, and eventually, you get the car going. his left hand is on yours, holding the wheel from the passengers side, helping you keep the car steady.

dallas puts in an elvis cd, and the music echoes throughout tulsa. “finally don’t gotta listen to your shit music,” he teases.

you smile and roll your eyes. “oh shut it, dal, i know you secretly like lesley gore.”

“‘sunshine and lollipops’ is the worst song i’ve ever heard. i’d rather you crash the car than to listen to that fuckin’ mess.”

“you’re mean,” you tease back, and he laughs.

“alright, that’s it, i’m lettin’ go of the wheel. i’m letting you kill us.”

“no, no, no,” you insist. “don’t let go.”

“my arm is cramping, doll,”

“don’t care. never let me go.”

he smiles, and holds your hand a little tighter. the summer breeze is coating the entire convertible in its warmth, your hair is waving in the wind, and dallas is just watching you drive, the focus in your eyes unmatched.

you reach a red light, and finally get a short break to relax. you turn to dallas. “i dunno how you drive everywhere, dal, this is stressful.”

“baby, you’re doin’ just fine.” he assures. “haven’t even run over anything yet, that’s somethin’, huh?”

“i don’t wanna kill us, dal.”

he laughs at that. “i’d hope so.” he takes a drag of his cigarette, then looks around at everything. you’re out of tulsa, out of the city. “i ain’t never been to the country before.”

“really? it’s nice, huh? all the trees and fields and stuff.”

“it looks fuckin’ boring. nothin’ to do around here, does everyone just play checkers or somethin’?”

“you’re such a downer,” you joke. you look up, and realize the light has just turned green. “oh- dal, which one is the clutch, again?”

“you’re a dumbass.” is all he says.

“dal!” you insist, and he puts his hand up in fake surrender. “i mean it, i’m keeping these cars waiting.”

“it’s your far left, doll.” he finally tells you, and you thank him, and then start driving.

you continue driving to meet the boys, and the country scenery is engulfing the both of you. fields on farmland, apple orchards, small, sweet towns, everything was so wholesome and welcoming.

you feel free, like the world is just yours and dally’s. you were born to live this moment, to drive through the countryside in your red convertible, the sun hitting your faces so perfectly that it feels like a coming-of-age movie. you feel golden.

[dan-berry-on-a-magnett]

Here’s what I remember from tn

Act one

1. Trevor is a great 14 year old boy

2. Brent messed up a little in RITF

3. Twobit dropped the keys In GGAH

4. Lots more gravel lol

5. Victor def says something in Spanish when jumping pony at the start

6. Victor Paul is so funny

7. Henry plays a more protective trip

8. Maggie is more down to earth as Marcia

9. Kevin spit on me

10. There was no blood in the beginning

11. Emma was crying during ICTTYAN

12. Brent’s acting in RITFR is amazing

13. Emma talked to RYO during the dance in FATD

14. Did I mention Victors hilarious

15. Victor and Henry talk as trip and Victor when the boys sit with the girls

16. Trevor coughed for a hot minute after the drowning

17. Victor looks terrified after Johnny stabs bob

18. Sky and Trevor had a really cute moment when all the greasers run into the house

19. Jason flipped off ryos Chet before leaving in Tulsa 67

20. You can hear Brent say shit after hitting Trevor

21. Sky grabbing Trevor’s shoulder right before GGAH

22. Jason offering Brent a drag of his cigarette and Brent saying something along the lines of “get the fuck away from me”

23. So much gravel

24. Josh Boone fake jacking off a bat in GGAH

25. Maggie points out brill to trip in drive in before the socs dance

26. All the soc boys around Paul on the car and him drinking out of a flask and making a face

27. Victor and Henry pointing out where dallys car is in the Drive in

Act two

1. Victor felt meaner as Paul

2. Brent sobbing through all of act two

3. Brent and Jason’s hug in TITT was so cute

4. Trevor’s DAMD was so good

5. Victor puts the ring on before he hits Brent in the rumble

6. Soda was lingering by Paul

7. Some swears before the rumble idk who

8. Josh Boone screaming before the rumble and Barton asking what he’s yelling for was funny

9. Maggie is taller the Henry and it was funny

10. Little brother was so heart breaking

11. So was stay gold

12. Chet and cherry are together in the end

13. Trevor literally dropping to the floor saying no after Johnny dies and Jason hugs him from behind

14. Emma crying in hopeless war

15. Emma went to grab Trevor’s hand in HW

16. Jason full jumped over Brent

[jaidens]

If you special requests are still open can I have a hot chai latte with extra whipped cream under name Darrel Curtis? Only if ur ok with that!

So scarlet it was Maroon, The mark they saw on my collarbone

pairing [s] : darry curtis x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : sex, hickeys, drinking, riding, making out | wrap it before you tap it |

a/n [s] : ty for requesting, I'm sorry for how long it took!

It has almost been a month without your fiance. Darry had been booked for every single day, and suddenly nurses had become extremely needed everyday for your hospital. You were riled up and upset that your shifts hadn't matched up with Darry's which ended up in only seeing him passing in and out of the house. You were the night shift, and Darry had been the morning shift. You took care of the gang when Darry couldn't, becoming the casual mom of the group when you were around.

As you shift the small ring around your finger, tapping against the table as the clock clicks closer to your shift ending. As soon as it hits twelve, you jump up, grabbing your bag and Darry's jacket and run out of the hospital while saying goodbye to your coworkers. The air is cold as it nips at your nose. You open your car door and turn the car on, the cold air hitting you as it attempts to start up with a rumble. The radio plays quietly as you start to feel giddy at being able to see your boyfriend after a month.

The car ride isn't long, but not very short. After twenty-five minutes of no traffic and long, twisting roads, you pull into the driveway of Darry's house. His truck is sitting next to your car, and the lights are still on the inside of the house. Grabbing your stuff, you run into the house and shut the door quietly behind you. Two-Bit and Steve are asleep on the couch, snoring as Mickey Mouse is playing on the television.

You smile at them, shutting off the television and lights. You walk to the kitchen, hang up your keys on the hook, and set your bag down. Your stomach rumbles after hours of being unable to eat due to the rush on the hospital. You pull out some food and heat it up, and bite into it and moan out. Darry’s cooking was always amazing, after years of practicing after the loss of his Mom and Dad. While you're eating, strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his hips.

With a gentle kiss to your neck, you smile and twist your body around to be in front of Darry. He's smiling widely, his tongue darting out to like his lips. “Oh, Darry..” You mumble out and he pushes you against the counter and his hand falls underneath your thighs as you follow his movements with your lips. Your hand runs up his shoulders and to the back of his head and you grip onto his messy, ungreased hair. He smells like aftershave and his minty shampoo and conditioner.

You're mumbling out his name every time he pulls away from your lips to let you breathe. “Not here, love. Bedroom c’mon!” You're whisper-shouting, as he picks you up off the counter and carries your bridal style to your small, shared bedroom. The bed is messy and fluffy with blankets as you try and beat the November weather that was attacking Tulsa. The television is on and plays a random show that Darry had liked, but you didn't understand it half of the time.

You crawl onto the bed and pull on the waistband of his pants and he falls on the bed on top of you, not crushing you with his thighs taking his fall. You're wrapped up in the kiss you've been waiting for, deep and full of delicious passion. His lips slide from your mouth to suck against your neck, kissing and biting gently. His name is a prayer as it falls from your lips as you slide against him, his hand tickling against your waistband.

You pull his shirt off and throw it on the floor, staring at his delicious muscles and abs that stretch and pull in every time you touch his warm skin. “Missed you so much.” Darry gasps when you pull him up and push against the wall.

—

When you wake up the next morning, your legs are sore and your back achy. The bed is cold and alone with Darry's side is put together and cleaned up. Your side however isn't as you get up from bed. You're in a big t-shirt of Darry's with a pair of underwear. You grab a pair of shorts and put them on. You stretch out your body and crack your hands. You fix up the bed and straighten out the sheets and fix up your hair. You put your slippers and rub your eyes. When you look at the mirror, you see all of the purplish and dusty pink bruises that litter your neck and down to your collarbone.

You grab a big hoodie and pull it on and it covers most of them up, but it would be impossible to cover all of them. You open the door to leave and you hear the boys that are somehow rowdy at eight-thirty in the morning. Two-Bit and Steve are ones that you can pick out, teasing Darry and Ponyboy about something you couldn't hear. You walk into the kitchen and you feel people's eyes on you. “Well! Well, how-dy here!” Two-Bit teases and taps against the maroon bruise that's underneath your jaw. “What’s that lil ol’ thing, Y/N!?”

You cover your neck and start to get embarrassed. Darry immediately pulls into protective mode and pulls you into his arms. You smile at him and he kisses the top of your head. You're forced to follow him around to stay in his arms. “Did you fight something last night? What's all over you—oh ew Darry!” Ponyboy says before covering his eyes and gagging. You laugh at him and serve him a plate of food. “Oh hush you too!” Darry shouts when Two-Bit and Pony start to giggle and conspiring about what happened last night.

You kiss Darry and he deepens it softly. “I’m off work today. Charles was being nice by not scheduling me.” You tell Darry and he smiles at you, letting his hands naturally wrap around your waist. You lay against his chest as you both fall into a natural sway. One thing about Darry is he didn't have two of the same feet, he was an amazing dancer and naturally would always be moving gracefully somehow.

You're both lying like that until Ponyboy says he's ready for school. You smile at Darry and hand him the truck keys, giving him a long kiss and twirling the curls around his neck on your finger as he walks out the door. You're smiling at the door when you hear the sound of the refrigerator opening, clicking of glasses, and two pops. “Really Two-Bit!? Beer at nine in the morning?”

“Hey young-lady! We both had fun, you got it earlier than I did. Now, let me enjoy this!”

[wherebettertoescape]

Thoughts on The Outsiders Album

Okay, as I said yesterday, I have a LOT of thoughts on the album and I decided to revive this page so I stop bothering everyone IRL with my thoughts about it 😂 I figure there must be a good amount of people on tumblr who are down to listen to my rants about the album, so here goes.

I'll put it under a cut so there aren't any spoilers for anyone who hasn't listened yet, and I know there's one or two things which I've heard about the prouction via other posts and such. But I will stress that I haven't actually seen it, I've only listened to the album and obsessed over it 😂

It's also below the cut because it's fucking LOOOOONG

Please reply to this or send in your own thoughts - I have so much I want to talk about to do with this album and I'm like... shaking with the need to talk about it with people who actually want to listen 😂

(sad times living in the UK 🥲)

I'm gonna go through the album sequentially, like track by track, because that feels like the thing to do, even though I will say right off that I definitely have more thoughts about some tracks than others. And I will also give my favourite line from each song. But for a just, like, general overview to begin with - I love the album so much?

I will fully admit that I was kinda preparing myself for it to be bad - it's a book that I love and I wasn't the biggest fan of the movie adaptation for a few key reasons, but I was so pleasantly surprised by the musical soundtrack.

I'm in love with the style of music, I love the entire cast (all of them have such different singing voices and styles and I think that they merge together so beautifully), and it has most of the things that I love in a musical - for me, it's got the right balance of the talking sections included with the singing, as well, which I know some people aren't huge fans of, but I might be biased because Soda is and always has been my favourite character and most of the talking is by him 😂 (I love Jason Schmidt, but we'll talk about that later), and as well as that the style of music and singing like gives me a good picture of what the actual choreography might look like, which I'm obsessed with, since I probably won't get to see it unless it somehow gets to the West End (🤞🏻)

Tulsa '67

Okay so this song is just like ✨exposition ✨ but it's done in a fun way, and I've decided it's worth it just for the finale reprise

I was also like stupidly emotional the first time I heard it and it opened with the opening line of the book

I was wary because of the immediate characterisation of Sodapop as being the brother "with a broken heart" (side note - does this mean Sandy broke his heart before the show rather than after it? I've goes QUESTIONS) - I'll go into it again when we get into Grease Got a Hold for obvious reasons, but I was worried that Soda was gonna be reduced into just being a womaniser again, which is something that bothered me about the movie adaptation

Favourite line: "all the girls are pretty there, and all the guys are mean"

Grease Got a Hold

right so it has no right to be as much of a bop as it is, it's been stuck in my head for the past week since it came out and I can't even be mad about it 😂

It's essentially just a typical "gang" song to introduce and characterise all the different members

Dally always saying "Little brother" got me so emotional like immediately

And I know I just said that I was upset with Soda's characterisation as a womaniser, but considering later songs, I will say I do find it really funny that he basically just goes "yeah I'm a greaser bc I love women 😊"

I LOVE TWO-BIT MATTHEWS - I would die for Daryl Tofa, just something soooooo good about the line he gives after Soda's verse

I have to admit, I was a little worried that they were gonna be pushing some anti-Darry propaganda, but I had no cause to worry, as he's an actual angel. Also it's so funny how fucking Done he is the moment he starts speaking

Something really funny about Steve not getting a verse, but something really sad about Johnny not getting one, but I don't have fully fleshed out thoughts yet so I'm gonna leave that there

But also there's just something about all of them trying to act tough, but all of them just have the voices of angels

Favourite line: "I'm a latch-key kid but they keep changing the locks" and also "you wanna be a fighter? then know just what you're fighting for"

Runs in the Family

I'm upset because this song has been such an ear-worm for me, but it's actually just so sad? There are a couple of these, but this is one of the main ones for me

It immediately makes Darry just such a sympathetic character - it's well documented that Ponyboy doesn't feel like he's enough of a greaser, but I don't think we talk enough about Darry is a reluctant greaser

Side note: but I'm really glad that they included Darry having dropped out of school to look after Soda and Pony, because that was kinda glossed over in the movie, which I felt did Darry a disservice

I just want to hug Brent Comer and tell Darry that he's doing a good job and everything will be okay 🥲

Favourite line: "I don't know what them boys would ever do without me - and what would I do on my own?"

Great Expectations

honestly this song deserves a post all of it's own, and maybe one day I'll do a full analysis of it

but in the meantime, it's fucking GORGEOUS, like Brody Grant has NO RIGHT to sound like this I'm so mad

THE FUCKING HARMONIES I WANNA SCREAM THEY'RE SO GOOD

One of the things I've loved about the soundtrack in general is how Pony in particular draws parallels and comparrisons between Johnny and the other greasers - here it's between Darry and Johnny, and I love it because Pony references in the book that he feels like he and Johnny are the outsiders in the greasers, he feels like neither of them really belong there, and they convey that so well in the musical with these constant comparisons in the songs and music

The continual return back to this idea of a self-fulfilling prophechy - trying to prove that they're not all the same just because they're greasers (like with the different verses in Grease Got a Hold), and this striving for individuality despite the overarching label they've been given

Favourite line: "It's hard to write this story, when this story's writing me"

Friday at the Drive-in

they all just sound so young - that's my main take-away from this song

I love songs in musicals like this where you're forced to be reminded how young the characters are and you have to humanise them a bit more - a bit like with "Drink with Me" in Les Mis

Also anytime that a soundtrack includes the dance-break it makes me so happy 🥲

Favourite Line: "Got no more stress, nothing to worry me - no more teacher's pet or trigonometry"

I Could Talk to You All Night

I need to say that I love this song, but the opening from Cherry is so fucking savage - like fucking hell there's no need to do that to Pony 😂

Again obsessed with Pony not feeling like enough of a Greaser

I'm a sucker for two people who feel lost in their own worlds finding each other and bonding because they can be themselves in a way that they can never be around their other friends

It's just such a pretty duet, and I want more of Brody Grant and Emma Pittman singing - we could have a million songs of the two of them and it wouldn't be enough

Favourite line: "I'd rather read then fight a rumble, but Greasers have to go along"

Runs in the Family (Reprise)

Dude it's such a serious song, and I'm obsessed that despite that there's just Soda being a little shit in the background

"I'll fold your laundry - I'LL FOLD ALL OF IT"

I love that even in this song it's like you can tell he's just so worried about Pony but it's coming out so angry and frustrated

So full of grief for the life he almost had

He's just so angry at Pony for still being able to dream, and it's like he feels like he needs to prepare Pony for real life, because he feels like he can't dream or wish for things anymore

And then just the screeching violin at the end of the song followed by DEAD FUCKING SILENCE, and then it switches to the next song where Pony starts singing acapella it's just herugighadlsiughukdhjsak, y'know?

Favourite line: "Whats the use in dreaming, about a life I'll never know? That ship sailed long ago"

Far Away from Tulsa

okay so I've already said that I'm obsessed with it beginning with Brody Grant acapella, and I know that the songs probably don't flow straight from one to the other in the actual production, but for the sake of the cast recording the effect is incredible

But also, there was absolutely no need to make this song so gay 😂 - Ponyboy, the bisexual icon we all need

It's very reminiscent of Santa Fe, with just kids dreaming for a life that they could have outside of their big city. Especially with the line "this place is real, it's not just in my head", which is VERY similar to "just be real is all I'm asking, not some painting in my head", but I'm okay with it because Brody Grant is incredible

But that line, as well as the one "'Ponyboy you're just a dreamer', that's what both my brothers say" are also really great links back to the previous song with the references of him being a dreamer, and that being what sets him apart from the other Greasers

I also just wanna say that I think it's criminal that there weren't more Pony/Johnny duets. Sky Lakota-Lynch and Brody Grant own my soul

Also catch me being emotional over Johnny's dream being wanting a family - he doesn't realise that he's already got one in the gang 🥺 (I could write an essay about this and Dally's continued use of 'little brother')

OKAY ALSO OBSESSED WITH THE CIRCLE BACK TO GREAT EXPECTATIONS, AND WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT HOW THE LYRICS CHANGE FROM

"Torn between what is and what could be. It's hard to write this story when this story's writing me"

TO

"It's all becoming clear, there's no way we're gonna find that here"

GOTTA ESCAPE TULSA TO ESCAPE THEIR FATE, SOMETHING AGAIN ABOUT SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECIES, I JUST CAN'T

Favourite line: "I'm tired of blindly watching as we're inching towards the ground"

Run Run Brother

There's so much to say about this song, but I literally can't formulate the words, so it's probably gonna be one that I come back to and properly analyse later. so in the meantime, here are my key take-aways

right from the beginning, it gives just an "oh-shit" feeling, just so much urgency and desperation

All three of them have such different singing voices and styles and the combination of the three just makes me so happy and I don't even know how to like express what I'm feeling

Back to the thing about Dally always calling Johnny (and Pony, but we're emotional about Johnny here) "brother"

the music is just so fitting - I feel like I need to be up and moving every time I hear it, like if I ran ever this would be on the playlist 😂

And I'm going insane over the echoes of what has been previously been said - the "grease isn't given it's something you earn", and "let's leave this behind, let's just get up and go" like you're FORCED to face that they are being given what they want but in a really terrible way

Favourite line: "I hate to make you go, but there ain't no other way"

Justice for Tulsa

okay so I know that this is a really important song and everything, but I will admit this is the one I tend to skip most

I will say I think this song would hit harder if they kept with the themes of police brutality that there are in the novel and movie with regards to Dally's death (going off what I've heard about the script changes from people who have seen it, I can't verify myself)

The song feels very claustrophobic, with everyone just trying to blame everyone else, which I think is really well done. Especially with the multiple voices coming in with "you know just what you did"

And it does show the bias of the world trying to blame the Greasers just by reputation alone, which is thematically nice

and also just the kinda mob mentality of the whole thing, especially at the end, with a declaration of war

Favourite line: "or we could send them back a message, take an eye for an eye"

Death's at My Door

I think I've seen somewhere that this is the opening song for the second act and I just - fucking hell, what an opener 😂 they really just wanna destroy all of us, huh?

EDIT: I've been corrected, and it's Justice for Tulsa that starts act 2 - my bad guys, I don't know where I saw otherwise. JfT starting act 2 makes soo much more sense 😂

I wanted to like reach through my headphones somehow and hug Brody Grant, like holy shit

The first time I heard it all I could think about was how much he's going to blame himself when Johnny (and Dally) do die - especially with Johnny having comforted Pony about it

And I'm just emotional about the exploration of Pony thinking of himself as a burden on everyone he loves, especially going back to what Darry says to him in Runs in the Family reprise, just confirming everything that Pony already worries about himself

Favourite line: "I don't believe in the death that you're bringing - the reason I'm living is you"

Throwing in the Towel

I just love brothers okay? This song made me want to like message all my siblings and tell them I love them

I loved that we see Pony's inner thoughts and fears about being a burden on his brothers, immediately followed by seeing Darry's own thoughts and feelings - the two of them being so similar in how they blame themselves for everything

All three of the Curtis brothers being terrified of losing anyone else

AND THIS IS THE SODA CHARACTER REDEPTION I NEEDED - he becomes more than just the womaniser, you can see him having like actual thought and feelings, and the amount of emotion in Jason Schmidt's voice as he's trying to reassure Darry, like this song and Soda's letter gets across everything that makes Soda my favourite character

And there's something to be said about how they're finally like communicating their emotions 😂

Favourite line: "I know your head is full of doubt, but brother that's what love is all about"

Soda's Letter

Musical letters my beloved ❤️

I love songs like these - they're always just so vulnerable

It links to Tulsa '67 Reprise with the reference to how Soda kinda keeps the family all together. This song you can like see the strain that it has on him, trying to keep the brothers who he loves so much together, by trying to tell Pony that Darry does love him even though he shows it in a very different way

also anyone who has seen it and made it this far in the post can you tell me whether they keep in the bit about Pony reading this really heartfelt letter only to go "Soda's so dumb he can't fucking spell" because it's all I could think about when I listened to it for the first time

Favourite line: "Your brother needs you just as much as you need him, and brother we ain't doing to good alone"

Hoods Turned Heroes

The triumphant return of my beloved Two-Bit, and he's doing some king shit

I love him, okay?

This is another song where I know it's really important, but I actually don't have much to say about it, other than I do really enjoy it

Favourite line: "It's time to celebrate Greasers, take pride in the Greaser name"

Hopeless War

I love that it's just Cherry begging Pony not to change, and hoping that he's still an outsider of the Greasers like she is for the Socs, a hope that the two of them are still kindred spirits even after everything that happened

She knows that the rumble is gonna be where Pony loses that last bit of dreamer in him because he's holding just so much anger at the world - I dunno, there's something there I'm sure 😂

it's such a smooth transition into "Trouble" and I wanna SCREAM it's so good

Favourite line: "even if you win, it doesn't change a thing"

Trouble

It feels like a war chant or something

The music is just so agitated

It's like Run Run Brother where I feel the need to be up and moving

Favourite line: "Do it for Johnny, even the scores, time to rally the crew"

Little Brother

I get chills every time I listen to it

Something about Joshua Boone's voice guys, I don't even know like how someone goes about beginning to talk about it, but whoever takes over as Dally has got some big shoes to fill

It's a lament to Johnny, and I feel like I listen to it and I feel the same anger and indignation that Dally feels

It's a song where I listen to it and I know, even without having seen the production, how I'd stage it and that always makes me excited

The longer the song goes on, the more uneasy you feel listening to it

It links him and Darry together again, with how he blames himself for everything that happened to his little brother, he feels like he should have been able to protect Johnny, the way that Darry always tries to protect Ponyboy

The final tempo increase and the discordant violin at the end, and it feels like even just listening to it you're watching him fall into a grief-led madness, and his certainty that there's only one way that his story can end

Favourite line: "They can't take anymore from me - if I ain't got you, then I ain't got nothing else"

Stay Gold

It feels somehow criminal to put these songs next to each other, but I mean obviously they have to be - that's how they want you to feel, but it doesn't mean that I'm not mad about it

I've listened to it like a million times and it still brings me to tears every now and then

There's something about having the hopelessness of "Little Brother", with Dally bring so apologetic at having failed Johny, followed by Johnny asking Pony to tell him that there's still good in the world

Just how much everyone in this story needs each other and they don't realise that the others need them too, yknow?

Johnny being Dally's "gold" - a lot to say about that but yknow, this is already long as fuck

The simplicity of the music itself (same as with Soda's letter - makes them thematically the same blah blah blah with them both being letters and all that), but it makes the song much more vulnerable than some of the others - nothing for Sky Lakota-Lynch to hide behind

Also that line: "I have looked into a thankful father's eyes, telling me I've saved his daughters life", and how that links to what Johnny says in the book about the little girl's life being worth more than his - I dunno, it just got me emotional, okay?

Favourite line: "I hold on to the good 'cause I've made my peace with all the bad" and also "It's easy to forget when you're trying just to make it through"

Tulsa '67 Reprise

WE MADE IT BOYS (seriously though, for real, if you made it this far, thanks for reading through my descent into madness 😂 and please send your own thoughts and such, bc I'm desperate to hear other people's thoughts)

I said it at the beginning, but I think the reprise of this song makes the exposition at the beginning worth it

At the beginning we hear Ponyboy as a dreamer, and at the end he still has that, but rather than idolising and making everything spectacular, he sees beauty in the mundane - he sees it in his brothers, his friends, all of that

The call backs to the original song as well, which allow us to go back to the theme of looking at individuality - the Greasers wanting to be seen as more than just characatures, and by the end they are like fully-fleshed out people rather than just the basic stock figures we initially get them introduced as in Grease Got a Hold

The clearest examples are, of course, Darry and Soda

Darry goes from being "could have been a football star, people say he had a ticket out" to instead being "the toughest guy I've ever known"

Soda goes from "suffers from a broken heart" to "this family's life and soul"

and then it goes from "got no parents, we fend for ourselves" to "can you imagine how proud mum and dad would be"

just something so beautiful about that, I dunno

There's more I could say about the themes of brotherhood and individuality ("grease as their disguise", for example), but I'll spare it for now

Favourite line: "Just too damn good for growing old, and in his memory I stay gold"

(finally - if you've stuck around to the end, I've also recently set up an instagram account, just for me, so please also check that out if you wanna hear more about my thoughts about random musicals and stuff!)

Freddie 🐸 (Instagram)

[radiojamming]

Hey guys! We're looking at another severe weather outbreak tomorrow evening/night and it's shaping up to potentially get nasty. Like, bad enough that storm chasers I know are already either leaving for southern Kansas and northern Oklahoma, or backing out entirely because they're worried about what's going to happen. Last time, the post I made got a little bit of traction, so I thought I'd go for it again on the off chance that it's helpful at all.

Here are the following regions currently set to be impacted, according to today's (5/24) outlook from the Storm Prediction Center:

MODERATE (MDT): Oklahoma City, OK; Tulsa, OK; Wichita, KS; Norman, OK; Lawton, OK

ENHANCED (ENH): Kansas City, MO; Overland Park, KS; Kansas City, KS; Topeka, KS; Olathe, KS

SLIGHT (SLGT): Lincoln, NE; Springfield, MO; Abilene, TX; St. Joseph, MO; Fayetteville, AR

MARGINAL (MRGL): Dallas, TX; Columbus, OH; Fort Worth, TX; Cleveland, OH; Omaha, NE

The SPC will update this forecast tomorrow (5/25) morning and will monitor it throughout the day and make changes if need be.

Here are my tips (as well as @fruitsmother's great advice!) from the outbreak two weeks ago.

Another great resource for right-to-the-minute weather updates is Ryan Hall, who will more than likely livestream tomorrow and is great about providing watches and warnings as they come in and giving advice about what to do. He also runs a 501(c)(3) non-profit The Y'All Squad that provides assistance and relief in areas hit by severe weather events.

Just to hit some key points for this forecast and reiterate the biggest pieces of advice:

These storms are forecasted to produce damaging winds, large hail, and potentially strong or violent tornadoes. These storms may hit during the night, meaning there will be low visibility. Do not just rely on sight to monitor the weather; rotation may occur right above you and not all tornadoes are immediately visible. Listen to NOAA weather radio, news stations, or any other resource you may have.

If the weather gets bad, go to a basement or the lowest level of a building. If the building doesn't have a basement, go to the most interior room (usually a bathroom or closet) with no windows. If in a bathroom, consider bringing in couch cushions, pillows, or a mattress to cover yourself in case of falling debris.

Stay away from windows, especially with the potential for high winds and hail. Do not open your windows (see: common tornado myths).

DO NOT GO OUTSIDE TO WATCH. Even if there isn't a tornado, flying debris and huge pieces of hail falling at incredible speeds are a real issue! If you've never gotten clocked in the head with an ice chunk, now is not the time to find out how it feels!

If you haven't already done so, now is the best time to consider your severe weather plan and set up your safe place. Some items you might want to have on hand are things like flashlights or lanterns, extra batteries, phone chargers, food, water, clothing, blankets, several days' worth of medicine if needed, and a first aid kit. If you have pets, it might be best to put pet carriers, extra food, water, leashes, or anything else you may need in this area as well.

Review some basic first aid skills and tips.

If you're on the road, do not go up under an overpass. This is very '90s advice and has been proven either ineffective or outright dangerous. Go into a ditch and try to get yourself as low as possible.

In the worst case scenario of a tornado or other destructive event (microbursts, derechos, etc.), be a help, not a hindrance! Don't clog roadways; allow emergency personnel to get where they need to go!

Just as well, this is not a day for amateur storm chasers. Chaser convergence has been a real problem this year and as we've learned (unfortunately) in the past, tornadoes don't always follow their usual rules, which can put even the most seasoned chaser in danger. This is going to be a great day to watch Pecos Hank or Skip Talbot videos while being as safe as possible.

I'll keep you guys updated as the models from the SPC change or if anything else comes up. Mostly, stay safe!

[chippedshake]

Dally Winston didn’t have many possessions. A side effect of never staying in one place for too long, he supposed. Even if he stayed in the same city, he would sleep wherever he could, and most folks’ hospitality didn’t extend past the week.

He was a constant flight risk. Too many people had woken up one day to find him fifteen miles away and nowhere to be found. And when he ran, he didn’t come back; he brought all he could need with him: the clothes on his back, the blade in his pocket, and the shoebox under his train seat.

The shoebox would be wrapped inside of his sweater – no matter if he ran away in August or December – and the only thing anyone could see if they somehow got close enough to open it would be candy bars and Kools, and maybe a shirt or two.

While he was in Cleveland, some guy in his gang – Joe or John or something about as interesting – tried to nab one and nearly got his head beat in.

That same night he’d caught a freight to New York. He wasn’t about to explain himself to a group of wannabe gangsters who couldn’t throw a punch and didn’t want him around anyway.

Crouched in almost complete darkness, the train jostling him around as he opened his shoebox, the twelve-year-old made sure nothing was out of place underneath the bars and packs. He let out a small sigh of relief at the four plastic bags, perfectly intact. It was too dim to see the actual handwriting, but he knew each one had a city name on it.

The keys to his father’s house and his sister’s comb from Austin.

Houston was where he met the first girl that actually mattered to him – Kathy – and her number was the only thing in that bag.

He’d taken his first job as a waiter in Pittsburg, and the navy blue button in that bag reminded him of his boss, the first one to look at him and see a scared boy with nowhere to go instead of a hood in the making.

Maybe he was both.

He didn’t need to open the Cleveland bag to know it was empty. Hadn’t been there enough to have anyone to remember.

It wasn’t the first time he’d left a city without anything to care about. Atlanta and Nashville had been crossed out to make space for other names, but he’d only been there for a couple weeks.

He’d been in Cleveland for almost a year.

Squinting to make anything out in the near-darkness, Dallas took the permanent marker in the corner of the box and crossed out Cleveland, replacing it with New York in as good handwriting as he could manage.

It was legible at best, but no one else was meant to read it, so he figured it didn’t much matter.

When he left three years later it was the fullest bag he had.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep the bag covered inside the shoebox, but he managed.

When Dallas got to Tulsa, he was far from optimistic. He’d been in New York for the longest yet and had actually managed to get close to a couple boys there before the fuzz got a bit too familiar with him and he knew he needed to skip town again. Before that happened, he’d thought he’d finally found somewhere he could stay long-term, until the greaser life inevitably caught up with him and gave him the greaser death he’d known was coming for him since he was nine and on a train away from Austin.

Then he met a group of boys, one of them hardly in middle school, who thought themselves a gang even though they couldn’t do anything but grease their hair back. And yet, somehow, even though the kid was obnoxious and his brothers were overprotective over him and one of them seemed to be constantly sucking on a lemon, Dallas found himself strangely drawn to them.

They might not have been as tough as the packs in New York, but there was something else about them.

It might have been how Buck, who hardly knew him, let him stay above the bar almost free of charge. How he would patch him up whenever he came back from a stupid fight and scowl whenever he saw a new bruise. How he would wordlessly direct Johnny to Dallas’s room whenever he appeared unannounced and made sure none of the drunks gave him any trouble. How he would give Dallas advice about anything he asked about, even if most of it was terrible.

It might have been how Johnny always came to him for help and didn’t seem scared of him for a moment, even when they didn’t know each other and he had every reason to.

It might have been how Steve would skip school with him to watch cars speed by and comment on everything from the engine to the paint job.

It might have been how Soda embraced him wholeheartedly, despite how perfect his life was and how ugly a stain Dallas was on it. How he listened in silence when Dallas finally broke and told him about Holly and how he’d never forgive himself for leaving her alone with that bastard. How he told him it wasn’t his fault.

It might have been Mrs Curtis and her disapproving looks when he told stories about his battles and conquests. How she never stopped believing in him anyway.

It might have been how he knew that, despite all of their fights, Tim would never betray him when it mattered. How he’d been the one to first call him Dally.

It might have been how Darry always explained football terms to him when he told a story Dally wouldn’t understand and how Ponyboy wouldn’t stop yapping about his favourite books and how Two-Bit went to every part with him to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid.

It might have been how, more often than not, Dally went home with something in his pocket to put away in his shoebox.

It’s been two days since Dally crumpled under a streetlight while his friends watched – except Buck wasn’t there, he wasn’t there, and part of him wonders if maybe he could’ve stopped him if he was – and Buck knows that it’s well past time to clean out his room because despite what he told Dally, he really does need the rent money.

It’s just washing the sheets and taking out any clothes he might have collected – not even three years he’d been there, and Buck’s life has a hole in it now that he’s gone and if this is anything like how Dally felt with Johnny, maybe he can understand his decision a bit more – and then he’s ready to rent the room out.

But it isn’t just washing the sheets and finding something to do with his clothes, because they won’t fit Buck because Dally was just a kid.

It’s accepting that the kid’s gone. It’s accepting that he’s not going to open the door with a scowl on his face. He’s not going to start complaining about Sylvia. Buck isn’t going to pretend not to care and give him barmy advice he doesn’t even believe himself.

The kid’s going to lie – still, cold, dead – in his make-shift grave and Buck’s going to stop crying because he’s done his fair share of that for a grown man and a greaser. And they’re just clothes.

Clothes that smell like the first kid Buck had cared about enough to take care of. Clothes many of which Buck himself had gotten Dally. Clothes that hold more memories of Dally Winston than any other place in town.

Just clothes.

And, apparently, a shoebox.

When he opens it, Buck isn’t expecting much beyond some unsavoury magazines and maybe a candy bar.

Instead, he finds five plastic bags with city names written on them in the chicken scrawl that only almost three years of living with Dally had taught him to read.There are a couple Twixes thrown on top as a half-hearted cover, but they don’t do much to hide the bags.

Three are almost empty. One is half full.

The last one is overflowing.

The Curtis brothers rarely received letters beyond bills or some routine ones from the state. They didn’t have many people that couldn’t just talk to them if they wanted to tell them something. At most they got some half-hearted birthday cards from distant relatives a couple weeks late.

They never received packages, though.

Except now their mailbox has a plastic bag stuffed inside of it and a shoebox sitting on the ground next to it, holding their usual letters and four other bags.

As they have for the last two nights, the whole gang – or, rather, what’s left of it – eats dinner together. No one says it, but they’re scared to spend too much time alone. Loneliness eats at them, even when they’re all together, and they’re the only thing keeping each other from going insane.

Darry clears his throat, breaking into the silence that settled down on them two days ago and has only thickened since.

“We, uh… we got a letter from Buck together.”

Two-Bit looks up from his plate with a raised eyebrow, and there’s something desperate in the way that gesture, that used to be casually playful and fun, comes from a Two-Bit who hasn’t smiled since Pony walked in the door two nights ago.

Steve and Soda share a glance before looking at Darry, but Pony doesn’t even bother. He just keeps pushing the food around on his plate as if it’ll make it disappear.

"What's it say?" Soda's voice sounds clogged up from lack of use.

"Apparently he– uh... Dally–" they ignore how his voice breaks on Dally's name "– he had stuff from all of us. Kept 'em in a box under his bed. Buck found them when he cleaned his room out. Sent 'em to us. He had stuff from where he's been before, too." For all Darry tries to seem casual, he can’t stop the unspilled tears of the last few days from seeping into his voice.

"I–" Steve trails off before clearing his throat and starting again. "Let’s see it then, yeah?"

It’s a well-known fact that Ponyboy’s too sensitive to be a greaser. Sodapop calls himself a bawl-baby and seems to somehow feel everything stronger than everyone else. Two-Bit’s an emotional drunk and hasn’t cracked a joke in two days. And Darry’s been suppressing everything he’s felt for nine months and is bound to burst at some point.

And yet Steve is the first to break.

He’s holding a small piece of metal – his DX name tag – that presses coolly against his skin. Dally always used to swipe it and play with it in front of him, laughing as Steve made mad grabs for it. He doesn’t even know why he tried; he knew he wouldn’t get it back until Dally got bored. He stole it a bit over a year ago, and Steve always figured that it was just to mess with him.

He sinks into his chair with a wet, choked sob.

Dally comes in on the one day Steve gets stuck at the counter. He’s messing around, sitting on the counter, his legs dangling off it, with Steve’s name tag, trying to goad him into some sort of stupid argument. Steve doesn’t even bother trying to grab it back anymore; Dally’ll give it back whenever he feels like it, and it’s no use trying to get it back before.

"You going to the drive-in today?"

"Nah, Soda'n me're goin' to the races."

"You takin' the kid?"

"Sure hope not."

Dally stops playing with the name tag for a moment. He swivels ninety degrees to face Steve and crosses his legs on top of the counter.

His eyes have always been off-putting, but now it feels like they’re piercing through Steve’s mask of uncaring and putting his soul on display for all the world to see. Steve looks away.

"Don’t do that, man."

Steve looks at him in confusion. "Don’t do what?"

"Don’t pretend like you hate the kid. You're not foolin' anyone but him, an' someday it'll be too late."

They stare at each other for a couple moments in a heavy silence. There are thousands of questions running through Steve’s head and he doesn’t know where to start.

"I gotta split."

Dally jumps off the counter and walks off, completely nonchalant, as if they’ve just had a normal conversation.

Steve doesn’t notice his name tag is gone until Soda asks him about it when he calls him over for help later.

He thinks a lot about Dally’s advice during the next year. Maybe he’s right. He does care about Pony, deep down. Somewhere. He’s an annoying piece of shit, but Steve cares about him.

But he’s been pretending not to for so long that he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to show him. Because if there’s one thing Steve knows, it’s that he’s not about to have a heart-to-heart with the little shit.

What he usually does when he can’t figure something feelings-y out is ignore it: block it out until it stops bothering him. But Dally won’t let him. His voice has needled a hole in his head, interfering with his every thought.

And the worst part is that Dally’s right. It’s not even just the kid that doesn’t know he really cares.

No one does.

No one but Soda and Evie really knows that he cares about them. And that’s really just Steve assuming they can read him well enough, because he’s not exactly one for baring his heart to someone and declaring how much they mean to him.

Logically, he should be the closest to Johnny, since none of the others really gets what it means to want to be anywhere but home, but Johnny would rather have to try and explain it to Pony than really talk to Steve.

Paying just the slightest bit of attention makes him realise that his stupid little sarcastic comments during Two-Bit’s stories actually hurt him, but for some reason Two-Bit chose not to tell him and Steve’s only just noticing now, after years of it.

Somehow, Steve managed to hide how much he wanted to be like Darry between ages seven and twelve, but now Darry thinks he hates him and obviously doesn’t know about the part of that hero worship that Steve still harbours.

Not even Dally, who acts like he can see right through him, knows about how Steve wants him to teach him to fight and about how he feels like Dally just… gets him better than anyone else.

But anger is how he processes everything. He can’t have a conversation without a sarcastic comment mixed in with it and would much rather brawl than talk something out. He doesn’t know any other way to work through things because no one ever bothered to teach him.

He wonders whether he could have asked Dally for help. Whether Dally would’ve laughed in his face or taken him under his wing and taught him how to feel things like a normal person.

Steve still hasn’t changed. He knows he should. Regret at Johnny and Dally never knowing how much he cared curls up inside his stomach, wrapping around and suffocating him. It’s only a matter of time before someone else’s monster is added in – no such thing as an old greaser – and Steve can feel it watching him, waiting until it can curl around his throat and start squeezing.

It’s too late for Johnny and Dally to know that he cares about them. It’s too late for Dally to see him take his advice to heart.

But Johnny and Dally aren’t the part of the gang that’s left.

So, for the first time, Steve looks around at his friends and tries to really see them. He tries to see the part of them they leave to subtext and interpretation, hoping someone will understand what that blink or that twitch meant.

Soda winces, he’s in pain. He’s holding something tightly in his hand, something sharp. But he has that faraway look in his eyes that he gets when he thinks about Sandy sometimes, so Steve knows not to talk to him. He’s going through something he needs to process alone.

Darry’s smiling in a bittersweet way that tells Steve that he’s remembering something good, something happy, and being brought back to the present will be infinitely more painful if it’s at someone else’s hands.

Two-Bit trails around the room, restless as ever, twirling a pencil around his fingers. Steve’s never felt like he knows Two-Bit. The walls of defensive humour and beer always seemed impenetrable and, honestly, Steve never really tried.

Finally, his eyes land on Ponyboy, sitting at the head of the table, a drawing between his hands. He’s trembling and blinking away tears.

“Golly, Pony, you oughta show Dal.” Pony looks up at Johnny, surprised and slightly incredulous.

“Yeah, right. Dally’ll laugh right in my face.”

“‘Course he won’t. Might not get it, but he won’t laugh atcha.”

If Pony didn’t know any better, he might say Dally’s face softens when he shows him the drawing.

Most people wouldn’t notice it, the subtle way his eyes stop being so sharp, like a shard of ice that melts just the smallest bit at edges. The way the corners of his mouth quiver ever so slightly as he tries to suppress a smile. The sharp exhale through his nose that replaces how most people would gasp.

Ponyboy didn’t even know he knew Dally that well. He didn’t know he could read him so easily, notice the smallest changes in his face and deduce his feelings. Most of the time, Dally still feels like an enigma.

“This ain’t too shabby, kid.” He looks up at Ponyboy. “When’d you make it?”

“It took me a coupla days, but I started when Two stole your switch to open a meat packet.”

Dally tsks almost fondly, shaking his head. “‘Course you did.” Before Ponyboy can ask what he means, Dally lifts his gaze – piercing, ice blue – and fixes it onto him. “You mind if I keep it?”

“Yeah– I mean, sure. I don’t mind.”

He looks at Ponyboy strangely for a moment before reaching forward and ruffling his hair. “You’re an okay kid, Pony.”

The memory doesn’t last much longer. Pony’s mom calls them to dinner a couple moments later and Dally never mentions it again. Pony had mostly forgotten about it until he’d opened that bag and found it, folded into careful eighths.

Now, as he thinks back to that moment and all the ones that were around it, he can’t help but wonder why he thought that Dally hated him. Why he thought Dally only ever loved Johnny. He’d thought Dally was hardened too much to feel anything, but from someone else’s point of view, maybe Ponyboy’s like that right now.

Maybe wanting privacy and being alone sometimes can make someone think he doesn’t care.

Maybe life punishing him for caring in the past makes him try to suppress it, or express it in almost imperceptible acts of fondness.

Maybe his own absolute conviction that Dally was nothing more than a hood made him ignore the clear signs.

He thinks about Steve telling him not to walk home alone, and Tim making sure he has a blade whenever he goes out with Curly, and Angela off-handedly asking where he’s going. He thinks about Darry hugging him at the hospital and the two of them chasing Soda in the darkness and Two-Bit making jokes even when Dally’s covered by a white sheet.

Has he been really seeing people, or has he just been seeing what he wants to see?

Steve’s slumping in a chair, looking at his nametag and then letting his gaze roll around the room. Darry’s playing with a deflated football, a bitter smile on his lips. Soda has his fist closed tightly around something, eyes closed as he takes deep breaths. Two-Bit is alone on the couch, staring at a tiny pencil in his hand that’s been bitten almost down to the point.

Ponyboy makes eye contact with Steve, who jerks his head towards Two-Bit and the two of them go over to him, Steve sitting down next to him with a back too stiff to possibly be comfortable, and Pony standing on his other side, a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t remember.” Two-Bit’s voice sounds genuinely broken, and Ponyboy is sent back to when he stumbled into the house after catching a ride with a stranger from the hospital. When Two-Bit said that even Dally had a breaking point. That years of hardening himself so he wouldn’t hurt had been for nothing when Johnny died and made him reach it.

Is Two-Bit at his?

“All o’ you, you’re there, with something, and you’re remembering. ‘Cause you bothered to make memories with him. Me, I was too busy getting drunk –” his voice breaks and it seems like he’s about to cry “– I was too busy getting drunk to remember anything from him.” He holds up the pencil. “This was mine. I know ‘cause I’m the only one that chews pencils, all y’all find it disgusting, and he kept it so it was important and he took it at some point and I can’t remember–”

Two-Bit fully breaks at that point, folding in on himself, grabbing onto the pencil with a death grip.

Steve looks at Ponyboy, completely at loss as to what to do, and for all Pony may be more “sensitive” or more in touch with his emotions, he doesn’t have any more ideas on how to comfort Two-Bit.

Maybe they’re not supposed to. Maybe they just have to leave him to cope and come to terms with himself. Maybe they have to let him hate himself like Ponyboy’s done on so many occasions.

Maybe it’s what they’re supposed to do, but it’s not what Ponyboy wants.

“I can.” Two-Bit looks up at him, eyes slightly glazed.“I remember it. You got me to skip a couple years ago, remember? We found Dally, and me and him smoked but you just chewed on your pencil. It was when he told us about… about Holly. I guess he musta taken it and we didn’t notice.”

Steve’s looking at him curiously, as if he knows he’s lying. Ponyboy just hopes that Two-Bit doesn’t notice.

“Yeah…” Two-Bit starts nodding slowly, “I think I remember that.”

Steve’s still staring at Ponyboy, looking like he’s trying to solve a particularly tricky puzzle. He sends him one final confused look before turning to Two-Bit.

“Look, Two…” Steve hesitates for a moment “you– you still got four friends. You ain’t alone. There’s a lotta opportunities to get more memories – not with- with them, that’s true, but with us – and we want you to remember ‘em. ‘Cause we’re not gonna be here one day, and all that’s gonna be left for you is what you can remember, and Pony here ain’t gonna be around to remember for ya.”

Steve looks like the effort of being sincere is damn near killing him, but he powers through, not noticing that Sodapop and Darry are looking at them and listening in.

“And we– we need you to remember. An’ not to be hungover every day. ‘Cause it’s hurtin’ you and it’s hurtin’ us. An’ maybe this ain’t the time to tell you, but it’s the time I’m usin’, and we can help you if you want it. If you don’t, too, we don’t care none.”

“He’s right,” Soda says, getting up and walking towards them, something clutched tightly in his hand. “You aren’t just hurting you, you’re taking us with ya. Which means that you don’t gotta get better all alone neither. We’ll help you and distract you and whatever you need to get over it.”

Darry doesn’t get up from the table where he’s sitting, but nods as he watches Two-Bit carefully.

A year ago, Darry wouldn’t’ve hesitated at getting up and hugging Two-Bit, or telling him that he’ll be by his side, helping him over his twisted addiction. He would’ve sat down next to him, wrapped an arm around him and told him everything would be alright. That they would work together, and he’d get over it and everything would be okay.

Only it isn’t a year ago, and if Darry does any of that, the whole gang’ll look at him like he’s insane.

Darry’s parents died on a Saturday. He’d had three hours of sleep because he was out with Two-Bit ‘till the early hours of the morning, and then Ponyboy had gone and literally started jumping on his bed to get him up at eight – partly to be a little shit, partly so they could play football.

Since then, Two-Bit has invited him out too many times for him to count, but Darry’s never been able to. He treasures his hours of sleep more than he does the box under his bed with his savings, and wasting them on partying seems unthinkable.

But it’s not just going out at night. Darry hasn’t had a real conversation with Two-Bit in nearly eight months and the realisation has glued him to his chair.

It isn’t Two-Bit’s fault that he didn’t have to grow up like Darry did, and it’s not even a bad thing, but that doesn’t mean Darry can’t or didn’t resent him for it, just a bit. He’s only a little over a year older than Two, but their lives have grown to be so different that it seems like an insurmountable gap.

And they were too close for Darry to fall into the fatherly role he’s fallen into with most of the gang, so over the weeks they grew apart, and now Darry hardly knows the boy that used to be his best friend.

And now, as he watches Two-Bit cry over a bitten pencil and swear he’ll do better, for them, Darry feels the distance like a knife in his chest, twisting with every comforting word his brothers can provide when he’s forgotten how to.

It feels ironic, then, when his hands come to rest on the table, and hit the stupid deflated football Dally left him that doesn’t just mark when he realised Dally was a real person with real feelings who cared about his friends, but also marks when he got his head on straight and started the most important friendship of his life.

He should’ve known. Soda’s pitying glances and Ponyboy always asking him to stay behind, the way Steve always glared at them, hell, even Two-Bit had warned him.

But he’d been delusional enough to believe they might see beyond how much money he had and genuinely like him as a friend. In the end, all it’d taken was graduating.

He’d like to pretend like it didn’t hurt.

Like he didn’t care that all his friends from high school were hanging out without him just a couple weeks after graduation and hadn’t bothered to invite him. Like he didn’t care that when he’d gone over to talk to them, they’d acted like they’d never been friends. Like he didn’t care that none of them seemed to care, none of them but Paul Holden, whose face flickered with a semblance of regret – or pity – for half a second before his expression hardened back into bored disinterest.

The pillow that’s currently taking a beating he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy begs to differ. He throws it against the door, which opens a couple moments later, showing an unimpressed Dally standing behind it. He just raises an eyebrow, asking a silent question.

“I’m fine,” Darry grumbles, fully aware of how childish he sounds as he walks forward to grab his pillow.

“You do get why I don’t believe you, right?”

Darry grabs the pillow and rolls his eyes. “Why bother asking, then?”

“Thought you might wanna talk to someone who won’t say ‘I told you so’.”

He looks at Dallas in mild interest. “What makes you think anyone else’ll say ‘I told you so’?”

“You had a picture of the football team on the wall, before, but now it’s ripped into pieces in the trash can in the kitchen. An’ you’re hacked off at somethin’ and the team’s you an’ a group of Socs. I ain’t stupid.”

Darry’s walking away from him, punching at the pillow. He doesn’t respond.

“You should prolly talk about it, man.”

Dally’s right, he probably should. But who’s he gonna talk to? The fifteen-year-old midget lecturing him when he’s known him for just over a couple months? His brothers, who’ll just say they knew it would happen? Two-Bit, who’ll probably just make it into a big joke? Steve, who Darry’s almost sure hates him? His mother will just look at him in pity and his father will give him a pat on the back and tell him not to let it bother him.

The only person Darry walks to talk about this with is Paul, and that just leads him back to the start.

He still doesn’t say a thing.

“Alright, maybe you don’t gotta talk about it. Don’t you want a better distraction than a shitty old pillow?”

“Like?”

Something hits him in the back and Darry whirls around. Dally stands smugly a couple steps further into his bedroom.

There’s a football at Darry’s feet.

“That was a pathetic throw. It’s not supposed to turn like that.”

“Teach me, then.”

They spend the rest of the day in the field nearby, Darry teaching Dally the basics of football. Everything from how to throw the ball (he seems to be messing up on purpose) to basic strategies his team used to use. As the day wears on and some of the other members of the gang start showing up, they join in, and when Mrs Curtis calls them in for dinner, they’re in the middle of one of their usual scrimmages.

Darry claps a hand on Dally’s shoulder as they walk into their house.

“Thanks.”

Dally looks up at him, a glint in his eye. “Nah, man, thanks for teaching me.”

The ball had landed on a nail, somehow, a couple weeks later, and they’d all chipped in for a new one. No one had wondered where the old one ended up, assuming it had been thrown out somewhere.

Darry had always wanted to find it somehow. He didn’t like that some nail had left him without the only physical reminder he had that Dallas Winston was a decent human being, and maybe even cared about him.

And it’d been just a couple days later that he’d started hanging out with Two-Bit more often.

Now that he had it back, though, he wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to feel.

Dally had thought that that moment was important enough to warrant keeping a reminder of it, a reminder of Darry.

A hand is placed on his shoulder. He looks up and finds Soda looking down at him, worry written across his face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Pepsi-cola, don’t worry about it.”

Darry’s smile is strained and forced but Soda doesn’t say anything about it.

He sits down next to Darry at the table, grip tightening around the pin in the palm of his hand. He doesn’t know who to thank for the fact that the gang had let him open the bag first, but if anyone else found it before him, he doesn’t know what he would’ve done.

He wonders what exactly the point of this whole experience is. Of looking at painful reminders of one of the people they lost not three days ago and remembering all they went through together only to wake up and realise he isn’t there. They won’t get anything, they won’t get to see him again, they’ll just get a painful ache in their chest.

The pin is simple enough that if someone doesn’t know exactly the right information, they wouldn’t think too much about the pink triangle on a black background.

The gang would know, though. Maybe not all of them, but at least one of them would, and they’d figure it out.

News stories flicker through Soda’s head – boys killed, beaten, kicked out of their homes.

He’s not even sure why he told Dally.

It’s at least partially because Dally got him drunk. He’s also not entirely sure what kind of cigarette he was given.

But for some reason, Soda finds himself sitting on Dally’s bed as the other boy rummages around the room. He’s blabbering and any sort of filter he’s had before has been completely erased.

“There’s just… something, y’know? Like, I like Sandy just fine, but it’s like Steve’s eyes glow, man. And have you seen him when someone has a car that’s real messed up? His nose scrunches up all cute-like. I like Sandy more, though, I think, Steve’s just my friend. You dig, right, Dally?”

“Sure, man.” Dally locks the door. “You’re staying here tonight, right? There ain’t no way I’m bringin’ you home like this.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” He throws himself backwards onto the bed and ends up in a starfish position. “Maybe I don’t like her more’n Steve, I dunno. It’s weird, ain’t it, how everyone thinks I gotta like Sandy more’n Steve? I don’t think I do, but I should. Why can’t I like Steve more?”

Sodapop wakes up the next day and doesn’t really remember much besides the fact that he told Dallas Winston he was a queer and the boy proceeded to sleep in the same bed as him without hesitation.

It takes him only a couple more seconds to realise this is the first person he’s told.

“Hey, Dal…”

Dally yawns as he opens his eyes. “Yeah?”

“You won’t tell anyone about what I told you last night, right?”

“I mean, you could use some help getting with Steve, but sure, I’ll keep quiet.” Dally’s wearing his crooked grin, the one he always has on when he’s just messed with some Socs.

“I ain’t jokin’, Dallas,” Sodapop says, his voice hard.

“I ain’t either,” Dally says defensively “I won’t tell anyone, so don’t go worryin’ your pretty little head about it.”

They stare off for a couple seconds before Soda relents. He grabs his jacket off the floor and walks out. Maybe he stalks, maybe he storms, maybe he strolls. He’s not entirely sure, but he’s not around long enough to find out.

The next day, Dally walks into the DX and slides the pin over to Soda.

“You got no idea how hard it was to find someone I could swipe this from.”

It takes him two seconds to recognise it and just one more to cover it with his hand and look around frantically.

“Dally,” he hisses, calming down a bit once he realises no one’s around.

“What? I made sure no one was in here.”

Soda just glares at him, but Dally seems undisturbed, slouching and drumming his fingers on the counter.

“What’s this even for, anyway? S’not like I wanna go around tellin’ people ‘bout it.”

“Aw, c’mon man, I swiped it an’ everythin’.”

“That’s not my fault. You know what’d happen if Pony found this? Darry? Steve? Sandy?”

“Fine, fine.” Dally takes the pin back. “You wanna be a coward, go ahead.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk.”

“You callin’ me a coward, Curtis?” Dally raises an eyebrow, and under any other circumstance, Sodapop would’ve made a comment about him turning out like Two-Bit.

“That’s what it sounds like, ain’t it? ‘Cause there’s only one kinda guy that’d sleep next to a queer an’ it sure ain’t a straight one.” The last bit comes out a bit whispered and Sodapop looks around the DX again, making sure no one’s there.

Nothing about Dally’s stance until now had made the conversation seem anything but casual. A lazy smile had rested on his lips, and he was slouching, relaxed, his hand resting idly on the counter. Now his face has hardened, eyes turned to shards of ice.

It’s an expression Soda has never seen directed at himself, only at Socs. Under normal circumstances, he’d be terrified.

“Shut your mouth.”

“Who’s the coward now? You think I ain’t seen how little you care about Sylvia? You think I ain’t seen how you look at Johnny? Don’t you go tellin’ me how to live my life when you’re just as much a coward as me.”

“The difference is I don’t deserve anythin’ better’n a dirty broad that two-times me every time the fuzz picks me up, and Johnny don’t deserve anythin’ less’n the‘ntire world, which I ain’t exactly in the position to give ‘im, as you mighta noticed. You’n Steve, on the other hand, ‘re just about made for each other. So don’t you go actin’ like we’re the same ‘cause you know damn well we ain’t.”

Soda hasn’t had enough time to process half of what Dally’s just said before he storms out of the DX, pin in hand.

Later that night, at dinner, when Mrs Curtis notices the hole in Dally’s palm, he says he accidentally pushed himself up on a nail.

Soda doesn’t know why Dally chose something that reminded him of the only fight they ever had. They never acknowledged it afterwards.

But then, when he thinks about all the other times he interacted with Dally – and with everyone else in the gang, he realises – he can’t think of a single one where he was completely honest. He hasn’t ever told Pony that his constant singing annoys him or asked Darry to cook the meat just a little bit more because it gives him a stomach ache when it’s so undone.

And part of that is just because he doesn’t like to make people upset, so if he can swallow his emotions and just pretend to be happy, he’ll do it every time.

But he also hasn’t told Steve he loves him or told Pony that his drawings are spectacular or told Darry that he admires him because he could never do everything he does or told Two-Bit that his way of seeing life probably got him past the hardest week of his life. And he didn’t tell Johnny that he was such a fucking warrior for putting up with everything life had thrown at him, that he was an absolute angel for everything he’d done for Ponyboy. He never hugged Johnny goodbye.

He never told Dally that he cared about him and didn’t resent him for the pin. He never apologised for what he said. He never told him that he deserved Johnny and Johnny deserved him and they should give it a shot.

He always put on a mask, however light, to make himself simpler. More palatable.

Except for then.

When his secret was threatened, when he realised he wasn’t alone, his mask had broken and he said exactly what he thought. Had Dally managed to notice that? Had he known when Sodapop was lying, pretending like he was okay when there was a gaping hole in his chest?

Or did he just run on anger, on violence, and enjoy the memory of Sodapop being angry more than any of the memories of him being happy?

It doesn’t matter, Soda realises as the rest of the gang – five is such a small number – sits down around the table, each of them with their object in their hands. Because Dally isn’t around anymore, and they can drive themselves crazy trying to figure out what he meant or why he did things, but they’ll never really know.

And Soda doesn’t know if it even matters, if they somehow manage to find out.

Because even if Dally kept it because he liked seeing Soda riled up, or because he just liked the pin, or because he got it from a boyfriend or hookup, it made Soda realise that he’d only ever been true once in his life. It made him realise he’d been going through his life as a lie, and that if he didn’t want to have a thousand words unsaid, a thousand loves unrealised, a thousand regrets on his deathbed, something had to change.

The point wasn’t to go through the pain of remembering. The point was to think about Dally and about what he thought. About what he would have wanted.

Not necessarily to do it exactly, but to think about it. To let him impact their lives for just a little longer.

Let him live for just one more minute.