#best places for drinks Tulsa

[staceysoleil]

Cocktails & Vibes

Cocktails and Vibes: The Best Spots in Tulsa for a Perfect Night Out

Look, we’ve all been there—after a long week, there’s nothing quite like kicking back with a well-crafted cocktail. But here’s the catch: it’s not just about the drink. Sure, a perfectly balanced Old Fashioned or a mind-blowing Margarita is a must, but the vibe is everything. You want a place where the atmosphere is just as good as the cocktail in your hand. A spot where you can sip, relax, and maybe even take a pic for the ’gram (because, you know, it didn’t really happen unless it’s on social).

Lucky for us, Tulsa is absolutely killing the game when it comes to cocktail bars that not only serve up some of the best drinks in town but also have vibes so good you’ll want to stay all night. Whether you're meeting up with friends, going on a date, or just looking to unwind solo, these are the top spots in Tulsa where cocktails and ambiance go hand-in-hand. Let’s get into it.

Valkyrie: For the Cocktail Connoisseur

Over in the Tulsa Arts District, you’ll find Valkyrie—a place that’s all about the cocktails. These folks take their mixology seriously, but don’t worry, there’s no pretentiousness here. It’s the kind of spot where you can tell the bartender what flavors you like and they’ll whip up something custom, just for you.

Their menu is always changing based on what’s fresh and in season, but if you’re not sure where to start, go for the Bee’s Knees or the Corpse Reviver #2 (a personal favorite of Mark’s). The drinks are strong, balanced, and absolutely delicious.

Vibe Check: Sleek, industrial, and laid-back—perfect for when you’re out with friends or just want to sip something strong in a moody atmosphere.

The Bull in the Alley: Hidden Speakeasy Vibes

If you want to impress someone (or just treat yourself), head to The Bull in the Alley. This place isn’t just a bar—it’s an experience. Located in an actual alley (you’ll feel like you’ve stepped into a secret speakeasy), the whole vibe screams exclusivity.

Their cocktail menu is filled with classic options, but the Martini is where it’s at. It’s smooth, perfectly chilled, and will make you feel like you’re channeling your inner James Bond.

Vibe Check: Dark, mysterious, and ultra-luxe. Perfect for date night or when you want to feel a little fancy.

Saturn Room: Tiki Fun Without the Beach

If you’re craving something a little more fun and tropical, Saturn Room is your spot. This tiki-themed bar is all about the island vibes—think bamboo décor, colorful lights, and drinks served in those adorable tiki mugs. You’ll feel like you’ve been transported to a tropical island, minus the plane ticket.

Order the Mai Tai or the Painkiller, and get ready for some seriously strong rum drinks. Bonus: They often serve your cocktails with little umbrellas, which is exactly the vibe we all need sometimes.

Vibe Check: Fun, tropical, and super laid-back. Great for groups or anyone looking to pretend they’re on vacation for the night.

Amelia’s: Rooftop Drinks with a View

Sometimes you just want to sip a cocktail while watching the sunset, and for those moments, Amelia’s has you covered. Their rooftop bar is one of the best places in Tulsa to grab a drink, take in the view, and relax with friends.

When it comes to cocktails, Amelia’s keeps it classy. Their Paloma is top-tier, and the Negroni is about as perfect as it gets. But honestly, with that view, everything just tastes better up here.

Vibe Check: Rooftop magic with a side of luxury. Perfect for a chill evening with a view.

MixCo: Chill Vibes with Serious Drinks

Located right across from the BOK Center, MixCo is the go-to spot for a casual drink before or after a show. But don’t let the chill vibes fool you—the cocktails here are no joke. They’re creative, balanced, and have just the right amount of flair.

Their New Fashioned is a fun twist on the classic Old Fashioned, and if you’re into something a little more playful, the Smoked Pineapple Margarita is a must. It’s the kind of drink that instantly makes you want to kick back and savor the moment.

Vibe Check: Casual, cozy, and perfect for pre- or post-event drinks. Ideal for when you’re not in the mood for anything too fancy but still want a killer cocktail.

Vintage Wine Bar: Classy Meets Cozy

If you’re more of a wine person but occasionally dabble in cocktails, Vintage Wine Bar is the perfect hybrid. Sure, their wine selection is on point, but their cocktail game is just as strong. Located in the Kendall-Whittier District, this spot offers a cozy, intimate vibe that feels like a hidden gem.

Try their French 75 or the Whiskey Sour for a cocktail experience that feels both elegant and approachable.

Vibe Check: Cozy, intimate, and unpretentious. Perfect for a low-key night out or a cozy date.

Boston Title & Abstract: Throwback Vibes and Timeless Cocktails

Boston Title & Abstract is one of those places where the vibe is as important as the drink in your hand. Located in Downtown Tulsa, this bar brings a throwback, vintage feel with its plush seating and moody lighting. It’s the perfect spot to sip on a classic cocktail and feel like you’ve stepped back in time.

Their Manhattan is a must, but if you’re feeling adventurous, go for the Paper Plane. It’s citrusy, balanced, and just the right amount of sweet.

Vibe Check: Old-school cool with a modern twist. Perfect for a classy night out.

Lounge at the Mayo: Historic Charm with a Cocktail Twist

For a little taste of Tulsa history with your drink, head to the Lounge at the Mayo. This spot is inside the historic Mayo Hotel, and the charm is undeniable. The cocktails are classic but well-executed, and the bartenders are more than happy to chat with you about the hotel’s storied past while they craft your drink.

Order the Sazerac or the French Martini, and then soak in the old-school glamour of the Mayo’s iconic lobby.

Vibe Check: Historic elegance with modern touches. Perfect for when you want a classy cocktail in a beautiful setting.

The Bottom Line: Tulsa’s Cocktail Scene Is All About Options

Whether you're in the mood for a tiki cocktail, a hidden speakeasy vibe, or rooftop drinks with a view, Tulsa’s cocktail scene has you covered. The best part? Each of these spots brings its own unique atmosphere, so no matter what kind of night you're after, there’s a perfect spot for you.

ps. #SpecialMention Hodges Bend: Always in our hearts ❤️ Although this venue is no longer with us due to a fire tragedy, it didn’t seem right to do a “best of” and not include them. We hope and believe they will be back with us (soon) and in the meantime let’s reflect on what we loved about Hodges…

If there were ever a place that just gets it, it’s Hodges Bend. Coffee, cocktails, wine—they do it all. The vibe here is effortlessly cool, with a mix of modern chic and vintage warmth. You can start your day here with a latte (because you’re fancy like that), but the real magic happens once the sun goes down.

Hodges Bend is known for its craft cocktails, and their Old Fashioned is basically a work of art. They also make a killer Aviation if you’re feeling adventurous. The bartenders here are total pros, so don’t be shy about asking for something off-menu.

Vibe Check: Dimly lit, intimate, and perfect for when you want to feel like you’re in on one of Tulsa’s best-kept secrets.

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: No Hesitation

Request: From anonymous: “I had an idea for Tyler Owens!! I feel like Tyler would be the type of guy that if a girl came up to him and said ‘this guy is creepy, pls pretend to be my bf’ he would be like ‘hell yay’ and scare the guy away without making the girl uncomfortable?? Maybe you could do a scenario like that with reader?? Thank youuu!!! Lots of love!!”

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: guys.... i'm down bad for tyler owens, pls send help (or requests so i can keep writing about him). anywayyy, enjoy!

“You comin’ T?” Boone asked as he peered into Tyler’s motel room. 

Tyler glanced up from where he sat on the edge of his creaky, double mattress and nodded. “Yeah, I just need to grab a shirt that doesn’t smell like pig shit.”

“Good luck with that,” Boone chuckled. “We haven't done laundry in almost three weeks– just about everything in my bag smells like pig shit.”  

“Maybe it’s time we popped home for a bit,” Tyler muttered as he continued digging through his bag. Finally, he pulled out an unused, plain, T-shirt that had been folded at the bottom of his duffel. “What kind of place is this, Boone?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Just a bar, man. Nothin’ fancy. They got darts though, and a pool table. Which, by the way, I bet you fifty bucks I can smoke you at.”

“Boone, you don’t even have fifty bucks,” Tyler replied, shaking his head. He stood up from the bed and joined his friend in the hallway, shutting his motel room door behind him. 

“Do too,” Boone said defensively as they began walking towards the parking lot to join the rest of the team. 

“Oh you mean the fifty bucks I gave you to get the van’s oil changed last week? Which now I’m assuming you never did–” 

“An honest mistake,” Boone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “They were closed the day you gave it to me, then I’ll be honest, I forgot about it. But my point is, beat me at pool and that money is yours again.” 

“I don’t want the money to be mine again, I want the van to get an oil change.”

“Well you get your fifty bucks back and you can use it for whatever you’d like– oil change included.”

Tyler shook his head, knowing there was no use arguing with his friend. 

“What’re you two love birds arguing about now?” Lilly asked. She was perched on the hood of Tyler’s truck looking at footage she’d taken from her drone earlier in the day. 

“T’s too scared to play me in pool,” Boone answered before Tyler could. 

“Aw,” Lilly said teasingly. “Nothin’ to be scared of. We’ll still love ya, even if Boone kicks your ass.”

“Yeah, T,” Dani added from the front seat of the van. They had the door kicked open and their feet resting out the rolled down window. “There’s no shame in losin’. Only in never trying.”

“I oughta just leave the lot of you behind. Me and Dexter can take things from here. Isn’t that right, Dex?”

“Sure,” Dexter said casually. “But I’ll have you know I can also beat your ass at pool.”

“Unbelievable,” Tyler muttered to himself. “Who’s ridin’ with me?”

Lilly and Boone’s hands shot up. “Shotgun,” Boone announced. 

“You always get shotgun,” Lilly muttered as she climbed into the backseat of his truck. 

“We’ll meet you guys there,” Dani said as they pulled their feet into the van and started it up. Dexter climbed into the passenger seat and then the group of them were off. 

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the bar Boone had been going on about all day. He insisted they served the best chicken wings in all of Tulsa. Tyler would be the judge of that. 

The parking lot was relatively full– but not surprisingly so for a Saturday night. 

“If you have more than three drinks, you’re ridin’ back with Dani, you understand?” Tyler said to Boone as the five of them walked into the bar together. “I’m not havin’ you get sick in my truck for a second time.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Boone said sarcastically. “I’m gonna mark my territory at the pool table– let ‘em know we’re next. Grab me whatever’s on tap, will ya?”

He didn’t even wait for Tyler’s confirmation before darting off, Dani and Dexter on his tail. 

Meanwhile, Tyler and Lilly made their way to the bar to order for everyone else. “Man, he’s full of it today,” he muttered once they reached the counter. 

“Yeah, well. We’re all a little restless,” Lilly admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks without much action. Boone’s kinda like a puppy. Except instead of walks he needs adrenaline rushes and excessive fun. Tonight’ll be good for him.” 

Tyler chuckled as he turned to check where the bartender was at. Except, as soon as he did, his elbow collided with the person beside him. 

“Sorry–” he said quickly, eyes wandering down. 

His words caught in his mouth at the sight of an unfamiliar, but beautiful girl. You were gazing back up at him with equal surprise, mouth hung open slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“That’s okay,” you answered quickly. “I was standin’ too close.” 

“No other way to really do it in here it seems,” he said. 

You smiled sweetly. “I know– it’s never this busy here, even on the weekends.”

“You come here a lot?” he asked, just trying to keep the conversation going. 

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but enough. Any time I have a hankering for some wings.”

Tyler adjusted his body so that he was facing you entirely now. He was boxing Lilly out– but she’d understand. Especially after she got a look at how gorgeous you were. “You know, my buddy said they were good. I didn’t entirely believe him. But if you say so…”

“You’re gonna trust a total stranger over your buddy?” you asked teasingly. 

Tyler tilted his head to the side. “If you met my buddy, you’d understand why. You know we’re all gonna play some pool in a bit if you wanted to–”

“Hey Y/N, there you are!” Tyler heard someone say, cutting him off. He watched as your head snapped around. A man– tall with broad shoulders and black hair, was pushing through the crowd towards you. 

“I gotta go,” you said to Tyler quickly, instantly causing his shoulders to fall. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” he grumbled. He turned back towards the bar to avoid seeing you reunite with who he supposed was probably your boyfriend. 

“Don’t sweat it, T,” Lilly said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll get the next one.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, kicking himself for letting himself get his hopes up over a stupid, two minute conversation. 

Once he and Lilly got everyone’s drinks, the pair of them made their way back towards the pool table which Boone had successfully taken over. No time was wasted before Boone was insisting the pair play. 

To Tyler’s absolute dismay– he really did suck. 

He lost three games in a row before finally calling it quits. He opted to sit at a high top table with Dexter, watching Lilly and Boone compete instead. 

Tyler was just about to throw down the last of his beer when suddenly, he felt an arm loop through his.  He turned to tell who he assumed was Dani, that they’d had way too much to drink, but before he could, a voice (that certainly didn't match Dani’s) rang out. 

“Hi baby, there you are!”  

Dexter, who was sitting across from Tyler, glanced at him surprised. 

Tyler looked to his left and locked eyes with the same girl from the bar earlier. Except now, she was gazing at Tyler desperately. Without warning and before Tyler could even react, you leaned closer to him. 

In a hurried whisper, you spoke so that only Tyler could hear. “There’s a guy over there. I keep asking him to, but he won’t leave me alone– can you just pretend to know me so that he’ll go away?”

Then, you press your lips to the side of Tyler’s cheek quickly, like it was a gesture the two of you had shared thousands of times. You continued holding on to his arm, your eyes wildly trying to communicate how terrified you clearly were, as you looked pleadingly at him to help you. 

Tyler’s face broke out into a huge grin as he, with absolutely no hesitation, took on the role of boyfriend for a complete stranger. He wiggled his arm out of your grasp and instead wound it around your waist, pulling you tightly into his side. 

You were taken aback by how secure and safe you suddenly felt. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tyler replied.  He could visibly see the look of relief that washed over your face once you realized he had decided to play along. 

Tyler tugged at your hip, indicating that he wanted you to lean in closer. You took his hint and tilted your head towards him.  

“Which guy is it?” he asked discreetly. 

“Red shirt, black hair,” you mumbled quietly. It was only then that you notice the other man sharing the table with your rescuer. You offered him an apologetic smile, hoping that he was intuitive enough to pick up on the cues you’d been dropping.  

Next you noticed the rest of his group scattered around the pool table. Initially, they were in the middle of a game when you came over, but now, their attention had shifted. You glanced at the beautiful girl with tanned skin and long, braided hair, holding a pool stick. She offered you a small, but cautious smile. You hoped it wasn’t her boyfriend you were currently draped over.  Then, there’s another guy– with messy black hair topped with an old, worn ball cap. He had a confused look on his face, but when the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, his eyes lit up in understanding. 

The man you were clinging to rubbed your hip bone gently with his thumb. The sensation sent sparks across the entire surface of your skin. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.  

You’d seen him at the bar earlier and had gotten a good, gut feeling about his demeanor. He seemed genuine and kind– even though you’d only managed about a two minute conversation with him before the man who’d been following you around all night came back. It wasn’t until after you darted off that you realized you should have just explained what was going on right then and there. 

You’d realized he was handsome earlier, but this was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him up close, now that your nerves had calmed down and you felt like you were able to breathe again. You wanted to give yourself a pat on the back, because it seemed like you’d chosen the best looking man in the entire bar, if not world, to be your pretend boyfriend. He had distinct features– a strong jaw, tanned skin, and eyes so green, it made you feel like spring was blooming. His brows were furrowed into a firm line as he scoured the bar nonchalantly, looking for the man who had led you to him. You felt grateful that this complete stranger cared enough to help you out.  

“That him?” he asked, nodding in the direction he wanted you to look. 

You turned your head and watched in dismay as the creepy man from earlier approached. 

“Shit– yes.”

“I got ya, don’t worry,” he murmured gently. “Can I help you?” he asked, turning once the man was within earshot. 

He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued to you. “I was jus’ lookin’ for her,” the man said, words slurring together. 

“And what use do you have for my girlfriend?” he challenged, grip around your waist tightening. 

“Sorry man– she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”

“But she did tell you to leave her alone, right?”

“Yeah, jus’ thought she was playin’ hard to get. You know how these girls can be–”

“No, I don’t actually,” Tyler said. “I think if she said leave her alone… you should probably leave her alone.”

The man put his hands up in surrender. “Easy man, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Like I said, I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“I don’t think you’re getting it–” Tyler said, standing up from his chair to face the man. You were surprised by how cold you felt without his hand around your waist. 

“You don’t get to just choose to respect her now that you know she has a boyfriend.” 

“You tryin’ to start something here, man?” The guy narrowed his beady eyes. 

“Why? You offerin?” Tyler took another step forward, anger surging in his chest faster than he anticipated.  

“Might be,” the man said, meeting Tyler halfway. The two were face to face now– things were escalating. 

But before things could get out of hand, the guy from behind the pool table hurried over. “Easy, T–” he placed a hand on his shoulder before facing the guy. “Why don’t you just back off, man? Get outta here.”

“Yeah, c’mon–” two more people from his group stepped forward. Like a small army, you thought. All stepping up to protect you– a total stranger. 

There was a brief moment where the man studied the scene before him. Then, like he realized that taking on the four people defending you was a bad idea, he backed off. 

“Whatever, she’s not worth it anyway,” he said, throwing you one, final nasty glare before turning and stalking off. 

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you saw him walk out the front door. Only when it snapped shut behind him were you able to exhale a shaky sigh.  

That guy’s been following me all night. I thought I could handle it, but then he got really mad when I wouldn’t let him give me a drink,” you said shakily. 

“What a creep,” one of them said. 

“Thank you so much–” you said, utterly relieved. Then, you introduced yourself to the table of people you’d abruptly intruded upon. 

“Don’t mention it, glad we could help. I’m Tyler.” 

The others had gathered around the table now and each introduced themselves as well. 

“You were right to trust your gut,” Dani said, offering you a reassuring nod. 

“Yeah, who knows what that creep might’ve stuck in your drink.”

You shivered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I’m glad I crashed your table then,” you smiled, turning to Tyler. For more than one reason, you thought, taking in the sweet laughter lines around his eyes and full lips. You caught yourself staring and forcibly looked away. You weren’t even drunk, but Tyler made your head spin.  

“Anyways, I should go,” you said quickly. You had to remind yourself of the circumstances.  You’d practically mauled Tyler in front of his friends and forced him to get into a brawl in the middle of the bar. And no matter how breathtakingly attractive you found him, there was no denying the fact that this entire situation was awkward and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “I’m really sorry for intruding, thank you again.”  

Tyler was still entirely dumbstruck, even as you walked away. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with whatever the hell just happened. He watched as you disappeared through the crowd of people. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dani spoke up.  

“Huh?” Tyler turns towards them. 

“She was into you, Tyler.”

He wasn’t sure he heard them right. The bar was loud and Tyler’s mind wasn’t working properly tonight, thanks to you and whatever perfume you’d been wearing. 

Lilly nodded her head in agreement, “And if I had to guess by the drool on your chin, I’d say you were into her too.” 

Feeling a little ganged up on, Tyler just stares at his team in disbelief. “I don’t– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boone shook his head and chuckled as he walked back towards the pool table. “Man, I have never– in our entire ten years of friendship, seen a girl leave Tyler Owens speechless– this one might be special folks,” Boone chuckled. 

“Go after her, you dummy,” Lilly said. 

“And do what?” Tyler asked. 

Dani scoffed, “Talk to her– invite her back to the table– literally anything but let her just walk away, you idiot.”

Slightly offended, but more motivated, Tyler stood up from the table and finally took the last sip of his beer. It was warm, but he used it as a final attempt at some liquid courage, before striding off after you. The crowd of people was thick, but he was confident that no matter where you were, you’d stand out.  

Sure enough, he spotted you across the bar. You had left your glass on the counter and were currently shifting through your bag, looking for something. Tyler took a deep breath before walking over.  

He called your name, which he was proud to now know, causing you to look up from your things.  

“Tyler, hey,” you said, unable to hide the surprised smile that crept across your face.  

“So that was pretty weird, huh–” Tyler tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but all he did was realize how dry his mouth was. 

You bit your lip, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it weird– I just– I was scared. He was so creepy, and you just looked like you’d make a good fake date…” 

Oh my god, what were you saying? You were rambling, like you always did when you were nervous. You took another sip of your drink, wishing it was something stronger. 

But a smirk crept up on Tyler’s face, like he could tell you were floundering. 

“Oh yeah?” His voice was playful. “And how do you think I’d be as a real date?”

Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach as you clenched down on your jaw, trying to play it cool. But it was hard to remain casual when you were pretty sure Tyler was asking you out. 

Your voice was hitched slightly higher than normal when you responded, “I think I’d like to find out sometime.”

Tyler flashed his white teeth in a stunning smile before nodding back towards the table he’d just come from. “How about we start now? I got a hankering for some wings, what do you say I get us a plate to share?”

With no hesitation, you reached for his outstretched hand. 

“Should we eat before or after I kick your ass at pool?” you smiled sweetly. 

[kaleldobrev]

Getting Back into the Swing of Things (1) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 2.2k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (4x), Age Gap (15 years) & Minor controlling behavior

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Don't worry, as Dean and reader meet in the next chapter! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⇠ Go Back & Read the Prologue

Dean tossed and turned, still unable to fall asleep despite what seemed like hours trying. He smelled blood in his nose, felt it on his lips and tongue; smiling with pure bliss. He could feel his hand gripping the First Blade, and he could hear the heart beats of people fading fast as he looked into their eyes. His throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself.

Removing the covers from himself, he swung his body, his feet flat on the floor as he rubbed his face. Letting out a huge sigh of frustration, he got up from his bed and made his way to his bedroom door; deciding that maybe a few drinks could make him get a bit sleepy. But he knew deep down that wasn’t going to work — he just needed an excuse to get up and walk around.

As Dean started making his way toward the kitchen, he noticed that Sammy’s door was open halfway, the light of the room still on. A puzzled look appeared on Dean’s face, surprised that Sam was still up. He figured after curing him, he would be knocked out for the next couple of days, or at least taking it easy.

He heard drawers opening and closing, not remotely quietly. Standing in the doorway, he saw Sam packing some clothes into a duffel bag, slightly struggling as he did so, as he was down an arm. “Heading out somewhere?” Dean asked, after knocking on the doorway.

Sam looked up, barely smiling. He looked almost half asleep. “Uh yeah. A hunter friend of mine asked me to help her with a poltergeist case. Should be only a few days.”

“A poltergeist case uh?” Dean questioned, intrigued. “Where at?” He scratched the back of his head as he walked into Sam’s bedroom, trying his best not to sound too excited about the case.

“Tulsa. It’s about a five and a half hour drive from here, and I promised Y/N I’d meet her at the motel in town,” Sam said, zippering up his duffel.

“You sure you’re good to go Sammy? I mean, your arm is still broken,” Dean said, pointing at his arm. “Why don’t I go instead? I could use a nice and easy case to get my sea legs back.”

Sam looked at his brother with a bit of hesitancy. “I don’t know Dean…” his voice trailed off. Even though Sam had talked to you about Dean, he wasn’t sure how you would react to Dean showing up instead of him. Based on the short amount of time he had known you, he feels that you and Dean would get along really well as your hunting styles were scarily similar at times, and your personalities rivaled each other. But yet, you didn’t know Dean, and he knew you’d rather hunt alone than hunt with someone you didn’t know.

“Sammy, your arm is broken. No offense, but how much help are you really going to be to her? She might as well just do it by herself,” Dean said, and Sam knew that his brother had a point. He was right, as much as he hated to admit it.

Sam sighed, almost defeated. “Alright, alright. You’re…you’re right,” he said, slightly swinging his casted arm. “Just let me give her a heads up first okay?”

You looked out straight in front of you as only darkness could be seen for miles and miles. Your hands had a tight grip on the wheel to the point that your knuckles were almost pale and white. The loudness of your windshield wipers drowned out what you were currently listening to — The Clash.

There was no traffic, no cars— just you, the rain, and the complete darkness except for your headlights. You sighed, thinking about your boyfriend, how conflicted you felt about the whole thing. On one end, you were tired of the bullshit and were ready to call it quits with him. Why be with someone who makes you miserable? You heard your mom’s words echoing in your brain, so loud as if she was sitting right next to you. On the other end, you wanted to give him another chance as people who understood the hunting life was few and far between.

You didn’t necessarily want to be alone, but it was something that started to look more and more appealing. You were 22, still young and had time to find someone. But who? Another hunter? A civilian maybe? No, no civilians, you thought. Too risky. You needed someone that knew the life.

As if snapping you out of your current thought, your phone started ringing, the buzz of it slightly vibrating your seat. Since there were no cars on the road, you pulled off to the side, and answered the phone. "Hey Sammy," you said, "where are you?"

"Hey Y/N, I'm uh...still back at the Bunker," his voice sounded so tired and defeated.

You raised a brow in confusion. "What do you mean you're still back at the Bunker? You're not coming to help me?" You would be lying if you weren't disappointed. Although you had only known Sam for a short amount of time, he was someone that you genuinely enjoyed hunting with; not only because he was a legendary Winchester, but because he treated you like his equal, despite your age.

"Remember when Cas helped me on a case a while back and I ended up breaking my arm?" He said, and you nodded, even though you knew he wasn't able to hear you. But he took your lack of an answer to continue speaking. "Well, it's still broken. And I didn't want to say no when you called for help because you were such a big help to Cas and me, especially me, when Dean were gone."

You didn't want to give the impression that you were disappointed, even though you were. But you understood where Sam was coming from; and the last thing you wanted to do was force him to drive all the way to Tulsa just to sit in the motel room. "I really appreciate you saying yes, even though you're kind of out of commission. It...it really means a lot."

"Listen, I know you can pretty much solve this case in your sleep but..." he paused, sighing, almost as if he was afraid to say the next few words. "Dean offered to help you."

You were completely silent, which was a rarity for you. It wasn't like you didn't appreciate the help, but you were iffy about it as you didn't really like working with people that you weren't really familiar with. Yes, you've heard countless stories from Sam about his brother, and knew he was a good hunter; but the thing that scared you was, when it came down to it, would he just leave you for dead to save himself?

"I know you don't usually work with people you aren't really familiar with but," he sighed again, and you knew if he was in front of you right now, the puppy dog eyes would be in full force. "He's a great hunter, Y/N, and he wouldn't let anything happen to you. If something bad happened to you, he would never be able to forgive himself."

How could you possibly say no when Sam was practically telling you how good of a person his brother was? "Sam —"

"You'd be doing me a big favor, Y/N. I think this case would really help him get back into the swing of things," Sam said. Now you definitely couldn't say no.

You took a deep breath, sighing. "Okay," you said simply, giving in to Sam’s plead.

"Thanks Y/N, seriously," his tone sounding a bit happier now that you agreed. "I already gave him the address to the motel we agreed to meet at. He should hopefully be there right around the same time as you are."

"But you guys are almost six hours away," you stated with a raised brow. "Is he teleporting there?"

Sam chuckled at your comment. "No, no. He uh...he's a bit of a speed demon," Kind of like you, he wanted to add.

"Ah, so like me," you said. Sam couldn't help but smile at the comment, finding it funny that you had thought the exact same thing as he had. "Alright. Um, does he need my phone number or?"

"I kind of...already...gave it to him...sorry..." his words trailed off, almost embarrassed, like you had caught him red handed. You sighed, slightly annoyed. You didn't like when others gave out your phone number without asking you first, but then again, your boyfriend — which was soon to be your ex — was something he did quite often behind your back.

"He still driving the impala?" You asked, but before Sam could answer you, you continued with your thought, answering your own question. "Never mind, that was a stupid question," you slightly chuckled to yourself. "Of course he's still driving the impala."

Dean held the steering wheel tightly in his hands, loving the feeling of the leather at his fingertips. It had been far too long since he'd driven Baby, and it was one of the things that he truly missed while he was gone. "It's just a car Sam," his words rang out; and those words gutted him, because Baby wasn't just a car: she was home.

As he drove, his music was low, not loud like he usually preferred it, as he was currently admiring the simplicity of his surroundings. The rain hitting the windshield and being quickly wiped away, the darkness of the road that was only lit up by Baby's headlights. He felt comfortable and at ease; something driving always helped him to feel. He felt at home right now.

You didn't really know what to feel right now as you were debating back and forth on how your first meeting with the infamous Dean Winchester was going to go. According to Sam, the two of you would get along great, as he's made comments along the lines of, "You sometimes scarily remind me of Dean," which you weren't sure if you should take as a compliment or not.

Some of the stories Sam had told you about Dean impressed you, but then there were some where you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the stupidity. With some stories, you wondered how he wasn't dead already, then again, both Winchester's have died and came back countless times as death didn't seem to stick. You couldn't help but wonder what made them so special. Maybe they are God's favorites, you thought; and you couldn't help but chuckle.

Pulling into the motel parking lot, you let out a small laugh, seeing Dean's impala already in the parking lot. He really is a speed demon, you thought. Wonder what time he got here? You wondered.

As soon as you parked your vehicle, your phone began buzzing, and you looked at the name on the caller ID. Your blood started boiling seeing your boyfriend's name. "You have to be fucking kidding me," you mumbled to yourself.

At first, you were going to ignore the call, as maybe he would think you were still driving. But there was no way you would be able to give that illusion as there was no traffic on the road when you left because of the time. With gritted teeth, you answered the call, trying your absolute best to remain calm. "Hey," was all you said.

"You get to the motel yet?" He asked, his tone implying that he already had that knowledge somehow.

"I just pulled in," your answers were short, as you were still mad at him from before. Although driving was one of the things that calmed you down and made you feel at peace, for some reason, this argument in particular really made you angry.

"You said you would call me when you got to the motel," he sounded mildly annoyed, but disappointed at the same time.

You rolled your eyes. "Fucking hell," you mouthed. "I just pulled in. You didn't give me enough time to even call or text you." You took a deep breath, feeling yourself getting ready to boil over. "This is me telling you that I have reached the motel and may not be able to talk to you over the next couple of days, okay?" You weren't asking him; you were telling him; trying to make it clear that you couldn't talk to him. Of course you would be able to, but you didn't want to, as this case was a way for you to get the edge off. It was a way to kill something without killing him.

"I love you," he said, and for some reason him saying those three little words surprised you. He rarely said them to you, even though it was something that you had said to him regularly. The only times he ever seemed to say those three little words to you was during or after sex, or when the two of you had gotten into a rather nasty argument.

You didn't want to say it back to him, as love was the very last thing you felt for him in this moment. But you almost felt like you needed to, so he wouldn't feel like anything was wrong between the two of you. Then again, you didn't want to gaslight him the same way he always seemed to gaslight you. "I'll see you in a few days," was how you decided to answer, as those were the most genuine words you felt you could say to him.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 2

Tag List: @roseblue373 | @snakebxtez | @deanwanddamons | @missy420-0 | @hannahisthebanana | @madzzz0797 | @livingordeadwhoknows | @grx-deanslovr | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms | @savagemickey03 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @beansproutmafia | @queenie32 | @deansbbyx | @deans-spinster-witch | @ficmesideways | @frozenhuntress67 | @coldspoons | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden | @androah | @zulema222 | @k-l-a-w-s | @the-achievementhunter | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007 | @Imhf1

[dallasgallant]

its 530am here give me your favourite headcanons and unpopular opinions im delirious

Ooo I’ll try to think some up, been a busy day so this might not be the best. Can’t let this lie till when I have a better answer, if I don’t know I’ll explode.

Johnny likes staying with Two-bit the best because his family has a sleeper sofa. He does have to use his sisters spare sheets/blankets… and he is a little worked up about using girls sheets but it means a lot to get comfort where he can.

Johnny drinks. Not a lot, usually only two and he takes it slow.

Steve’s nose is crooked from having his nose broken one too many times. It’s not too noticeable unless you look close but there’s a definite slant

Steve and soda simultaneously hold eachother back from doing stupid, high energy shit… it doesn’t work that well and that’s part of the reason soda drags pony along everywhere

Darry’s main hangout is the gym because he feels his masculinity is a bit threatened by doing a bulk of housework and nagging (stereotypical mother behavior) he knows he’s being dramatic about it but feels he needs to prove something.

Dally isn’t very good at sweet talking someone as if it’s not quick his pride quickly gets in the way

Pony’s clothes are 98% hand me downs

Unpopular opinions-

Idk why everyone else thinks Dally is FROM New York but I don’t see it that way. More he was raised in Tulsa, went away for a while and then came back. Either with family or on his own (the implication he moved all over the place or on his own is either from a tweet or purely the musical and idk why — I just-)

I talk a big talk about rodeo stuff but fandom should also lean into the fact the boys are a bunch of rednecks. Like in general but there’s also a lot of interesting class issues underlining the story and idk people seem afraid of the fact they’re poor?

Literally no one in the story is “the bad guy” or “evil” like the entire message is about nuance and everyone’s human and complex but my god will that go over everyone’s head for someone to blame.

I’m a time period stickler when it comes to writing fic/headcanon/meta. Sort of unpopular in that I find the research and stuff fun (I promised to make time period help posts… I’ll get on that sometime) not everyone likes doing this or is as particular and that’s fine. This is more a unpopular thing I do than opinion

[billkaulitzwife]

The Outsiders Coping With a Breakup

(ps guys im not over it leave me alone(i also watched the notebook and i hate myself))

Ponyboy

Reading or writing.

How could you ever hurt this little freshman boy he‘s such a sweetheart

He would probably silently cry into a pillow until he thought his lungs were about to collapse or cave in

if this was now … he‘d chain smoke and listen to lana del rey while looking out a moonlit window

he definitely listens to Elvis to get over it.

I don’t know what exactly he would read to get over it but probably some sad ass Edgar Allan Poe. Annabelle Lee lookin ass.

He‘d write the most heart breaking

tear dripping

heavy breathing sad poetry ever.

show him a romance novel.

he’d never stop reading them until he got over it.

just the bare thought of it drives him nuts.

so he reads.

Johnny

if you hurt this man he would probably hurt himself.

he would dream bout it and wake up in cold sweats, tears running down his face.

in all honesty

i think he‘d be artistic with it

he’d somehow turn each and every single tiny thought into something about you

whether it be thinking about a teddy bear then contorting it into nothing but an image of you and him.

he would never be able to look at the places you went together the same.

he would be an artist.

hand him a pencil and he’ll make your heart break and ache.

might etch and sketch on himself to see if you still care.

ps you obviously do.

Dallas

Doesn’t know how.

All this man does is sleep, drink, fuck, repeat.

being honest this manwhore is probably gonna screw every hoe in Tulsa to try and get his mind off of it,

but every path leads back to what he knows best.

he would smoke more,

party more,

drink away all his problems, etc before facing a problem head on.

people may see him as this

uhh

violent gang member hoodlum kid guy man

but deep down hes really just a kid who wishes he couldve given his momma one more hug

a kid that needed to be loved.

a kid that was never taught how to be loved.

Adelaide

crier.

she’s a big ol’ crier, but it doesnt matter since thats not the only way she copes.

she loves to paint and puts every emotion into her paintings.

she may’ve become a kleptomaniac since she needs the supplies.

the curtis boys would

PERSONALLY

kill you if anything happened to her

one heartbreak and shes done for

love? whats that? it isnt real?

dont hurt her no matter what.

she would also turn to cigarettessss (as if she doesnt smoke enough).

adelaide would develop stage five lung cancer before even admitting that love could in the slightest exist anymore.

Sodapop

working.

soda seems like the kinda guy to go through a breakup and cry a lot

but the only thing that really helped was work.

he’d probably get a raise

yk with how hard and how much he’d be working to get over it.

his siblings would warn him about not overworkimg himself

and guess what.

he didnt listen and got really sick from all the stress.

i know for a fact he would keep away from cigarettes even if someone said they help and he believed it

he would only ever listen to the radio

hoping and praying that when he’d hear a love song he‘d hear your voice

Darrell

probably the most sane of everybody while dealing with his bs

he wld obviously be heart broken

but not to the point he needed some insane coping mechanism.

he would probably meditate.

i mean this is the sixties cmon he’s either gonna do wxxd

or meditate.

as soon as a thought of you came up and his mind started to panic he would sit on the couch and

well.

relax.

he probably has the healthiest coping mechanism he’s definitely got his life together

the others are jealous as fuuuuck

Steve

bro wouldnt eat.

every time he thought about the breakup

he thought it was because he was strong enough

or that he was too chubby for his girl.

one time he passed out while on the way to work and the gang freaked out so bad

they couldnt take him to the hospital so they carried him home and stuck a juice box in his mouth

eventually his ass woke up and they all cheered like the war had just ended “HIP HOORAY!”

but then in all seriousness

he needed to get his weight back up so the curtis kids make him eat at their house

even if he says he ate.

theres always snacks for him laying around thay house from then on out

Two-Bit

drinking.

do i have to explain.

in the novel pony said two-bit was famous for shoplifting and his black-handled switchblade…

but for some reason i know he wouldnt shoplift any more.

(he sure did teach adelaide how to tho)

along with his love for “shopping” you gotta remember he’s a heavy alcoholic

he’d drink away all of his problems and thoughts until he blacked out.

his buddies would think its just your average keith

but in all reality he’s really struggling

even though he seems like the usual drunk happy joking guy

HE IS HURTTT.

okay thanks for watching todays vlog

if u ever need to vent please dont be scared to message me bruv im sure Ik how to help.

[pedrito-friskito]

// track 1 - fortnight //

-> welcome officially to TTWD! (kay’s version). first on our track list is some sweet, smutty lovin’ from my favourite lover boy, marcus pike🤍

word count: 2.5k

warnings: drinking, meet-cute, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it before u tap it), marcus is a pleasure dom we all know this, kay knows nothing about the FBI LOL

Marcus has always hated paperwork. Finds it tedious, though he knows it’s necessary, but he loathes it, much preferring to celebrate a job well done than to rehash his assignment alone in his office.

It’s that exact hatred that had him sneaking out of the building, heading in the direction of the bar not far from his temporary workplace, one he’d visited earlier in the week with a few friends.

He’s only here for a few weeks, two to be exact. And with the way things are going, he has a feeling he’ll be heading back to Washington earlier than anticipated. He doesn’t mind the travel, it’s always been a perk of the job, though he knows it’s probably part of the reason he has yet to settle down.

After the fiasco in Austin with Robin, he’d sworn off dating for a while. Washington was a fresh start in every sense, but no sooner had he unpacked his bag, they were sending him to Maine on a job, then to Seattle, then Colorado, then Tulsa, the list went on and on. For a stretch of at least four months, he hadn’t even set foot in his apartment, living out of a bag and becoming far too accustomed to sleeping on those godawful chairs in the airport.

Seattle had been a highlight, however.

You were the commanding officer of your division, as much of an art geek as Marcus, and damn good at your job. Marcus had fallen easily into step beside you, and his week-long visit was shorted to a weekend after your success, but he found himself lingering, hesitant to tell his own CO that the job was done. He knew the news would make its way up the flagpole regardless, but he wanted to stay.

Wanted to know you better.

You let him, the pair of you starting with a dinner that was so full of conversation that you didn’t realize the place was closing until your polite-as-hell waiter gently suggested you head across the street to a 24-hour diner with the best cup of coffee in the city. You’d headed over, Marcus holding an umbrella over you both against the sudden downpour.

He lost count of the cups of coffee, enraptured by the way your hand kept inching closer to his on the tabletop, how your gaze flickered between his mouth and his eyes. On a whim, he reached out, curling his fingers around yours and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

The rain outside had thinned to a drizzle, and he leaned across the table. “You wanna get out of here?”

It was you who ended up taking him home, to the small house near the coast you called home. “Much nicer than whatever hotel they have you in, I can guarantee,” you commented as you fumbled with the lock.

The moment you were over the threshold, he had your face in his hands and was brushing his mouth over yours, the taste of coffee lingering on both your tongues, Marcus stepping forward so you would step back, until your shoulders hit the wall and he could press himself against you.

You took him to bed, and called in the next day, more content to spend the day with him. You didn’t leave the bedroom much, and the week progressed like that, wrapped up in sex and conversation and coffee, until Marcus’s phone rang and the bubble popped.

“We need you in Colorado. Your flight leaves in four hours.”

He saw it move through your face, then you shrugged and said, “It’s the job. I get it.”

He didn’t want to leave. But he had to. You said over and over that you understood, and when he asked if you could stay in touch, that maybe this could work, your eyes clouded.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Marcus.”

Crushed, he got himself drunk in the airport bar, and by morning, he had a new assignment, and knew he had to put you behind him.

Fate, however, seems to have another plan in mind.

Stepping into the bar, he sighs, heading toward the same stool he’d occupied a few nights ago, when a familiar face catches his eye. His heart stutters in his chest as he reaches his seat, letting his suit jacket slide off his shoulders.

Your hair is shorter than he remembers — maybe a trim, maybe his mind is playing tricks on him — but the rest is the same. Better, somehow, like a restored painting in his mind as he drinks you in again like it’s the first time. Perched at the bar, your fingers curled around a glass, one heeled foot floating in the air. 

He recognizes those heels. He took you out for dinner another night in Seattle, and when you got home that night, he told you to keep them on. And you did. He felt the marks in his back for weeks, but it was worth it.

He orders a scotch, knowing he’s going to need more than a little courage. But how is he going to play this? What’s the best way to—

“Marcus?”

You’ve made the decision for him, your excited gaze meeting his across the few stools separating you. There’s a light in your eyes he remembers, knows you’ve probably had more than one drink, and that your next will be water. You had a system, he remembers you telling him.

The bartender slides him his drink, and Marcus takes it over to where you’re sitting, sinking into the stool beside you. “Fancy meeting you here.”

You grin wider. “Of all the gin joints in all the world…”

His heart does that stuttering thing again. “You finally watched Casablanca?”

“I did,” you reply, nodding, looking up at him through your lashes. “Cried like a baby.”

“Told you.” Tossing back some of his scotch, he signals the bartender to bring you a water. “I can’t believe it.”

You’re still smiling, your head cocked slightly to the side. “You know, I had the strangest feeling I was going to run into you? It sounds insane, I’m sure.”

“Not insane,” he shakes his head, setting his glass down inches from yours. If he straightened his fingers, he could brush the tips along yours. “I’m calling it fate.”

“Fate?”

He nods, taking a healthy sip of his drink. Liquid courage. “I’ve been wanting to call you since I left Seattle.”

You scoff. “It’s been three months, Marcus.”

He leans forward, contemplating putting his hand on your knee but thinking better of it. “I know, and I feel awful. I just…didn’t know what to say. When I left, it didn’t exactly sound like you wanted to hear from me again.”

“I didn’t,” you say bluntly, sipping your drink and mumbling thank you as the bartender brings you your water. “It wasn’t going to work; we both knew that.”

“And yet, here we are.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Fate, huh?”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Or something like it. I’ve missed you. A week wasn’t nearly long enough.”

Your gaze meets his and lingers, flickering between his mouth and his eyes. “How long are you in town for?”

“Two weeks,” he answers. “Maybe less. I’m on assignment, but I plan to stay right through. Been slacking on my paperwork. Then once I get back to Washington, I’m hoping to stay in one spot for a while. What about you?”

“Two weeks,” you echo, and he grins.

“Fate, I tell you.”

“We shouldn’t do this again,” you say, leaning back slightly, your brow pinching. “Rekindle what we had just to have it pulled away again? It isn’t fair, Marcus.”

Defeat sinks onto him like a weighted blanket around his shoulders, and he tosses back the rest of his drink, the glass feeling like lead in his hand. “You’re right, it’s not—”

“We shouldn’t,” you cut him off, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Before he can get another word out, you’ve got your fingers curled around his tie, tugging him down your level. Your lips are soft, tasting faintly of lime and mint, and Marcus can’t help himself. His free hand dives into your hair, fingers locking around the strands, tugging until your lips part against his and he can kiss you more thoroughly, tongue stroking yours.

You pull back with a soft moan, still gripping his tie. “You wanna get out of here?”

Twenty minutes later, he’s pushing the door of his hotel room open, your fingers linked together. 

“Don’t mind the mess,” he starts, but barely gets the words out as the door shuts behind you. It’s his back that hits the wall, a low grunt falling past his lips as you tug on his tie again, using it as leverage to drag yourself closer, closing the distance between your bodies.

Marcus groans as you fit your face into his neck, teeth scraping his pulse as his hands find homes on your hips. Clothes start to fall away, landing in puddles of fabric on the floor until you’re both bare and falling into his unmade bed together. He lays you out on your back, trails kisses right down the front of you, over each hip and along the inside of your thigh. He doesn’t stop until you’re keening, back arching and one hand locked in his hair.

You’re soaked when he strokes his fingers along you, his name sung like a prayer when he presses them inside you. “Fuck,” he grits, curling up and dragging slow, watching the way your body reacts, the way it shapes to him. “Just as tight as I remember.”

You whimper, head falling back as he pushes deeper, seeking out that rough patch inside you, remembering how it made you fall apart before. The hand not in his hair shoots down, fingers wrapped around his wrist, forcing him deeper.

He lowers himself, kneeling at the edge of the bed, surveying how you’re spread out before him, your knee hooked over his arm. “Look at you,” he purrs, dragging his mouth along your thigh again. He can feel your muscles twitch, see the way your breath chokes out. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

Body writhing, your head lifts just enough for your eyes to meet.

“More.”

He’s more than happy to oblige, lowering his mouth to your cunt, laving his tongue around the place you’re split around his fingers. You moan loudly, one hand clapping over your mouth a moment later, and he snakes his free hand up your chest, squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple between his knuckles.

“I want to hear you,” he mumbles against you, moving up ever so slightly to suck your clit between his lips. It makes your whole body go tighter than sin, bearing down on his fingers as your breath hitches. He doesn’t stop, swirling his tongue against your clit, releasing it only to lap at you over and over, his fingers never stopping until you go tighter still, every muscle going taut as you cum, his name moaned over and over until your body starts to go lax.

He pulls his fingers from you slowly, still tonguing at your cunt as he does, pulling away only when you push lightly at his head. He stands slowly, cock hard as a rock against his stomach, and watches your eyes roam up his body as he licks his fingers clean.

“Come here,” you beckon as he leans over the bed, planting a hand on either side of you. Your hand curls around the back of his neck, pulling him close. “I still need more, Marcus.”

He doesn’t make you wait long, using his knees to spread your thighs further. His cock taps against your cunt as he lowers his body to yours, and you gasp, finding his mouth with yours. He drinks down your noises as he presses himself inside of you, the pleasure snaking down his spine like a memory.

He’ll be the first to admit that this is what he’s thought of these last three months. You, underneath him, your body soft and pliant and his. It hasn’t been far from his mind, playing like a movie in his mind whenever he’s taken care of himself.

But just like seeing you again in the bar, this is another thing entirely.

Your body accepts everything he has to offer, your heels hooking around his calves, hips rocking up into his. You’re still so fucking tight, and he knows he’s not going to last long, knows that’s why he made sure you came first.

The room fills with the sound of skin-on-skin, with your breathy moans and his quiet grunts. You hook one hand under his ribs, the other finding the back of his head and tugging at his hair, putting your gaze to his. “I want to hear you, too,” you tell him, a sly smile on your face, and he nearly cums on the spot.

He didn’t need the permission, but it unlocks him all the same, the quiet grunts growing louder until he’s all but growling your name in your ear, fitting his face into your neck and biting down as he feels the pleasure coil tighter and tighter until he knows he’s about to cum.

It starts to rip its way through him, and he pulls himself from you, painting the crease of your thigh with his cum, chest heaving. You watch him, eyes darting between his face and his twitching cock. The look on your face tells him you have other plans for him.

Good, because he’s got other plans for you, too.

And fuck the two weeks, he’s not letting you go again.

As you both come down, Marcus having retrieved a cloth from the bathroom to clean you up, both of you sharing. a glass of water, your face turns sheepish as you hand him back the water. “What is it?”

Your mouth opens, closes, and then opens again. “You know how I said I thought I was going to run into you earlier? I think the reason I was feeling that…was because I’ve been meaning to call you, too. Since you left, I wanted to call you, and then something happened and I just…”

“What happened?” he asks, sinking onto the bed beside where you’re laid out, pillow bunched under your arm, head tilted into your hand.

“I got a job offer,” you say, and before he can congratulate you, you lift a hand. “I got a job offer, and you were the first person I wanted to call, but I wasn’t sure if I should. Because it’s been three months and you’re amazing and I kept telling myself you found someone else and that was why you never called. But then I got this job offer, and I…”

You trail off, shaking your head, staring him down. “What’s the job, sweet thing?” he asks, reaching out and putting his hand on your leg, covered by the blanket.

The sheepishness disappears and you grin. “It’s in Washington.”

// TTWD track list //

[qprpbj]

for soda centric fics decentishoutsidersthoughts has some good ideas!

but some general ones to spur the thoughts:

middle child syndrome in the sense that he’s always playing the middle man between pony and Darry�� and do they really stop fighting after canon even with his whole breakdown….

he’s the “stupid” curtis… both his brothers are so smart damn how would he feel growing up… his baby brother being able to do his homework for him :/ his convo with Darry abt dropping out after their parents die and Darry is trying to prove to the state that he’s a fit guardian

sandy. that’s it.

I lie that’s not it. but the girl ur so in love with and want to marry just up and leaves with no explanation. you find out later it’s cause she’s pregnant (with another man’s child?)

he’s canonically the crybaby of the family. he wears his heart on his sleeve but wouldn’t that get him into trouble? as a boy as a greaser in the south in the 60s

ADHD, dyslexia… in the 60s... end tweet

He’s 16 and also working as a breadwinner for the household. Hes even taking the place as one of pony’s guardians in a way…

Just his stress and anxiety abt pony being gone that week, the trial, his friends dying (and they’re all around his age more than they are the other brothers… do with that what you will)

Him finding Johnny in the lot

Pomyboy says he doesn’t drink and has never lost a fight BFFR he’s just hero worshipping and I believe sodas never let him see him like that

If ur a Stevepop gal…. yeah…. having feelings for your best friend…. and you really notice them after ur girlfriend disappears… but he’s still happily dating evie….

He probably has a shit ton of insecurities and just doesn’t show it… not being smart like his brothers… working at a gas station… not being enough for his gf to not cheat… not being enough for his brothers to not fight… not being able to help out with bills more… not being able to help his little brother out at school… people just talk about him for his looks….

Imagine ponyboy starting to grow up and not need soda as much anymore… no more bed sharing, no more late combos, pony grows taller than him (I’m a truther), pony starts hanging out with people other than the gang (curly Angela) and imagine how that feels after being such a strong parental role for your brother and he’s just starting to pull away from you like every teen does… but then again that’s your brother and you’ve always been close…. you were just immediately thrust into this parental roll and slowly it’s being taken away from you and you don’t even notice it until it’s too late…. ADD ON TOP OF THAT HOW OUT OF ALL THREE BROTHERS SODA IS THE LEAST LIKELY TO GET OUT OF TULSA BC OF REASONS (SEE ABOVE) AND SO HES FEELS LIKE HES BEING LEFT BEHIND

Shit wait I kinda cooked up more than I meant to… maybe I actually gotta learn how to write fanfics skdhfbcbbd

ok no but the soda feeling stupid compared to his brothers is sooooo insane to me. like one of them graduating, okay, but BOTH? esp pony a year early?? frankly once is a fluke but twice is a pattern!! so why couldn’t he graduate too, why did he have to be the only brother to perpetuate greaserhood and see nothing bigger for himself than working at a gas station?? also ponyboy doing his hw FOR him despite being two years younger is nauseatingggggg.

i DO think that soda genuinely is happy where he is most of the time but at the same timeee i think he’d sometimes have trouble reckoning with guilt esp on pony’s graduation day (i dooooo have a fic. coming someday about that. smiles), esp because we only know soda through ponyboys eyes. for all we know maybe he ISNT as happy as he always seems and puts up a front for his baby brother!!! in fact that’s most likely it tbh!! like he is canonically a crybaby and is probably just scared to show ponyboy bc he Knows pony looks up to him like a hero!!! it’s so!!!

adhd dyslexic soda in the 50/60s. yeah. i could yap that into the GROUND. lest this post becomes an Essay though i will leave it there unless someone else asks LOL

pony not needing soda as much anymore as he gets older is so. like ohhh you Hate me. it’s not even that pony doesn’t Need him it’s just that he’s growing up and bettering himself and making a better life than he was ever supposed to have and sodaaaa thinks he’s gonna stay stagnant his whole life 😣😣 pony who used to share every secret with him but now he’s all grown and doesn’t need to as much anymore. sighhhhh. sodapop curtis i LOVE YOUUUUU

[pumpkinsy0]

Yes I am the anon that asked for Two-Bit hurt/comfort BUT gonna go on a rant here and ask a penny for your thoughts on my VERY long rant:

Two-Bit and Darrel were childhood friends like most of the gang the difference being is that since they’re around the same age they’re more like Steve and soda. Close friends despite their bickering and unknowingly tied at the hip.But their relationships has shifted about three times in their lives.

The first was when Two-Bit first started high school. He didn’t really know anyone around, Soda and Johnny were still in eighth grade,Dallas and Steve didn’t have his classes, and Ponyboy was just starting seventh grade. But he remembered Darry, so imagine a young Two-bit going off to the football field to find him. Wide eyed and hopeful to just get into some good old trouble.Only to see him surrounded by soc’s, all patting him on the back. Darrel standing straight and tall, and talking the way they other soc’s do. In a way that’s surprisingly natural for a greaser.Only to see Two-Bit in the corner of his eye, trying to grab his attention. Two-Bit with a big old smile on his face waving at him. Only for Darrel to turn his back on him. Not in a harsh way, just in a subtle way to let him know things have changed. Darrel may be a greaser in name, but it’s clear at his core he’s meant to be a Soc. Meant for bigger things that Two-Bit could only dream of.Two-Bit sees that, and the next time he sees Darry he acts like nothing happened. After all, he knows his friend is destined for bigger things, much bigger than himself.

A few years go by and Two-Bit attaches himself more closely to people like Dallas Winston and Johnny Cade. Still acting like a proud greaser, being loud and causing trouble. Refusing to act like anything other than himself,while Darry is off being the Golden boy of Tulsa. The two are still friends, but neither acknowledges the rift now between them.

The second time their relationship shifts is when the Curtis parents pass on. Once destiny for bigger things, Darry acts more like a parent figure. Not only to Ponyboy and Soda but to the rest of the gang. His once sparkling blue eyes are now dimmed. His dreams of escaping this place are now gone. Two-bit sees this,and tries to help in his own way. It’s not successful of course, because while Two-bit is emotionally intelligent, he doesn’t know how to fix things the way that Darry seems too. He can’t seem to make Darry laugh anymore, much less smile. And anytime he tries, he’s met with harsh blue eyes and words that make his skin crawl slightly. Two-Bit doesn’t take it to heart, he never does. But the two go from being somewhat friendly, to estranged. They know everything about the other yet nothing at all. Even though Darry is just two years older than him, he feels decades more wiser and more responsible than Two-bit will ever be. Keith ‘two-bit’ Matthews, who’s still forever fifteen years old no matter how many birthdays pass him by.

The last and Final time it shifts is after Dallas and Johnny’s death. The house is quiet, much more quiet than it’s ever been. The gang went from seven people to now five. Steve doesn’t visit much unless Soda drags him over. Ponyboy spends most days either in his room or at the Shepards. And Darry? Well he’s always busy. Two-Bit is quiet in a way he usually isn’t. He spends most days with Ponyboy or Steve, yet unlike Steve he never sticks around anymore. His eyes once filled with carefree joy are now more solemn and more cautious than before. In his own way, he takes up Dallas’s role in looking after Ponyboy. Too scared that he’ll end up going cold the way Dallas did. He still drinks of course, except booze becomes more like medicine to him than a relaxer. And perhaps one night he has a bit too much, and stumbles onto the Curtis porch.

He spots someone on the porch, and it’s none other than Darry Curtis. His best friend, who was perhaps something more to him at one point, and is now a little less. The two lock eyes, and they mirror each other. Both now are older in ways they shouldn’t be, yet neither will say it out loud. Instead Darry makes room for Keith to sit beside him, and rather than cracking a joke, Two accepts. There’s so much they could say to each other but don’t. Because when you know someone for so long, you simply understand the unspoken. And perhaps this peace won’t last long, but that’s okay. Because at least just for right now, they’re ten years old again, and nothing but them matter in the world.

I deeply apologize for the long long shortish story!! 💀💀but…thoughts? And hoped you liked it!

i love long rants,,, im like a fly on food rn

OK SO heres my lil itty bitty additions

first part: yknow, i never see darry (at least at this point in time) as being one to b ASHAMED of being a greaser, but he doesnt necessarily embrace it like the others do either. i like to think that darry just,,,was and he was always pressured into fitting into either a greaser but he didnt want that, and the socs didnt want him either and greasers around didnt view darry as being so loyal either, tim even thought that to an extent as well. hell, darry isnt even really fully accepted in the gang bc hes older than them and just didnt “fit in” in general, and it never bothered him much, but two bit (and soda) were always the ones to pull him in!! i dont think he’d look at two bit to shoo him away, but maybe more of a “not now” kinda way, but as darry grew “closer” to the socs there was almost never a time for them, but two bit wouldve always been there for darry whenever he had the time, its like he was constantly waiting

second part: i think atp w the curtis parents dying, thats when two bit stopped waiting. he had a sinking feeling for a while but kept denying it and was pulling out for that one moment where everything would fall back into place. but it was specifically a few days after the funeral where two bit realized that hes just not gonna have that chance to connect they way they did before at all, bc darry spoke a full sentence for the first time in a long while and he sounded way older, like older than two bits own father when he left them behind, more serious too, and more out of reach, and two bit just gave up.

last part!!!: at this point, i think the reason why they clicked here is bc they finally understood each other. two bit just, grew up, he cant run from the things that hurt him with booze like a kid running to their mom, and darry understood his own faults and how much easier life can be if u just let go sometimes and after years they saw eye to eye again. like u said they dont say anything to each other, its been so long away from each other yet at the same time just right there, they dont have much to say, but they can just be in this moment together and that would suffice.

10000/10 loved this one anon im sobbing

[sondheim-girly]

Tell me about cherry seeing Bob drunk for the first time :D

@wren-is-a-wreck also wanted to be tagged in this so here ya go! This was at first supposed to be head canons then I decided to just turn it into a little oneshot. I haven’t written anything like this in a very very long time so grant me grace! Also this takes place about a year before canon, when (in my headcanon) Cherry is a sophomore and bob is a junior.

This is inspired by multiple peoples posts, I cant remember all of them but they all get partial credit!!

when bob and cherry first started going out, he was her escape. Things were getting worse at home everyday, there were nights when her father wouldn’t come home at all and her mother would just lock herself in the bathroom, leaving cherry to spend hours sitting by the phone waiting for a call to tell her where he was. It took her a while to learn it was better if she just stayed in her room.

During all that, she had bob. Sometimes he’d come by the house to pick her up and they’d go to the drive in with all their friends, but Cherry best liked the nights when it was just the two of them. They’d drive around Tulsa for hours, and on those nights he would be sweet to her. it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

there were a lot of parts to Bob that he hid from her. he knew she didn’t like it when her friends got drunk, so he tried to avoid drinking too much when she was around. and when he got a bruise after jumping some kid on the east side, he laughed off her worry by telling her it was just from football practice. He sure got hurt a lot at football practice, didn’t he?

Things changed one night when Brill was hosting a party to celebrate the start of the school year- or at least that was how he advertised it. It was more an excuse to have a huge party and get drunk. With the way things were at home Cherry knew that pretending to be having fun at some big party wasn’t something she’d be able to do, so she asked Bob to lie to her friends and tell them she was sick. For a moment she was scared he wouldn’t do it, but he just smiled and kissed her, and told her of course he would. Things should’ve been perfect, but then her parents started screaming and even in their big house the walls wouldn’t cover up the noise of her father’s drunk bellowing voice. She called Bob and Marcia, and even Bev to see if she could crash at anyones house. No one picked up, she should have figured they’d all be at Brills. Desperate, she drove over to his house hoping Bob would be there and they could go on one of their drives and he could make her forget everything at home. That’s not what happened.

she saw him immediately when she walked in the door. He was laughing at something Trip had said and she knew in a moment that something was wrong. He noticed her and went over, putting his arm around her waist. The familiar putrid smell of alcohol filled her senses. He was drunk. She’d seen him drink before, taking a sip every so often out of his friends flask at the drive in, but she’d never seen it nearly as bad as this.

“Cherry! you told me you weren’t coming!” Bob slurred, a near unsettling smile on his face. He tried to lean down and kiss her, but she moved away from him. She saw a dark flash cross his face and for a moment, it was like she was looking at her father.

“Bob, how much have you had to drink?” Cherry accused him,

“Cherry whats wrong…”

“Bob you’re drunk. Really drunk,”

“cmon it’s not that bad-” Bob tried to reach towards Cherry again, but she flinched away. He wasn’t acting like himself, he seemed dangerous.

“Cherry lets go,” Marcia urged, appearing at Cherrys side.

“Cherry stay…” Bob pulled cherry towards him again, this time with more force, and she shoved him away from her

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” She said, stepping back and clutching Marcia’s hand. It felt like the entire world was holding its breath. Cherry shook her head, then turned around and walked out of the door, Marcia quickly following.

Cherry spent that night at Marcia’s house, and the next afternoon when she finally went home she recognized the corvette sitting outside of her house, with a boy holding a bouquet of pink roses (her favorite) and a large box of chocolates- he knew she could never resist chocolate.

and so he apologized, something he couldn’t remember ever doing in earnest. He groveled, even. And she forgives him because of course she does. On days like this when he looks at Cherry as though the entire world orbits solely around her it’s impossible to say no.

He avoids drinking for a while after that, and doesn’t drink around cherry at all. But eventually he slips, and looses the ability to care as much. Cherry gets used to it, still using halfhearted attempts to get him to put his flask away. At least he’s good at not getting truly drunk around her. But jealousy drives him to eventually break that rule and jealousy gets him killed

[sleeping-academic]

august 5th, 2024

first post!! this week is probably going to be pretty low-key, since i’ve still got 2 weeks before the actual semester starts, but i’m just trying to get into the routine of actually posting on here :)

today, i:

🫧 made some good progress on a new dnd character i’m working on (just need to add the spells, which is tripping me up)

🫧 read up until page 153 of a little life. i’m really enjoying it so far, the author’s writing style is keeping my attention and i like all the characters

🫧 ran some errands that i’d been putting off for a few days. i had to go pick up my adhd meds so that i can get back to actually regularly taking said adhd meds, and then i ran by the grocery store (i needed peach tea and better green eyeliner)

🫧 cooked dinner!! it wasn’t anything fancy (just some chicken and couscous) but that’s something i’m working on, so i’m proud of myself :D

🫧 did some more tarot journaling. i’m trying to research all of the cards before i actually start using them, and i managed to get through the 4 of Wands tonight

goals for the week:

🫧 finish the pages for the 5 and 6 of Wands in my tarot journal

🫧 order or download my textbooks for the upcoming semester (of which there are a LOT. gotta love being an english major)

🫧 register my bike!! i’m planning on that being one of my main methods of exercise this semester, especially since my bus stop isn’t all that close to my job/my first classes of the day

🫧 road trip to tulsa to see hozier w/ my best friend <3 i’m SO excited for our little weekend trip

photo dump:

1. pretty sky picture while driving home from work

2. did some tarot journaling while drinking tea

3. new bookshelf setup!! my friend came over and helped me put all the little guys on the shelves

4. the first batch of bagels that i made in my new place <3 they turned out pretty well!!

media:

🎧: “a quick one before the eternal worm devours connecticut” - have a nice life

📖: a little life - hanya yanagihara

📺: i’m on season 6 of criminal minds right now, haven’t watched any in a few days tho

[afishinaqua]

Developmental Psychology in The Outsiders: An Analysis (WARNING: SPOILERS)

I read The Outsiders over the weekend because I was bored. I was hooked into the story so quickly that it was probably the fastest I've finished a book in the last few years. Absolute 10/10 highly recommend if you haven't read it.

I had to write an analysis based off of a book I've read for my psych final project, so I decided to analyse the characteristics of the characters. This is based on terminology used from the Developmental Psychology unit of my class, so to clarify: I am NOT an expert in any of this. I wrote this for academic purposes/fun and thought to post my analysis here because I thought it could be a place for my brainrot. Enjoy!

This goes into detail about how Ponyboy, Dally, Darry, Sodapop, and Johnny fit into Erikson's Stages of Development, Kohlberg's Theory of Moral Development, and Piaget's Theory of Cognitive Development. I DO NOT elaborate on the theories themselves in this piece, so if you'd like to learn more, I recommend doing research on your own if you'd like to further connect.

FULL DISCLOSURE WARNING BEFORE I PROCEED:

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE NOVEL THE OUTSIDERS. DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO SPOIL YOURSELF. THIS IS MY FINAL WARNING.

Now to proceed to the analysis. Please enjoy.

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Developmental Psychology in The Outsiders

The Outsiders tells the story of two rival gangs in Tulsa, Oklahoma in the 1960s. The Socs (Socials) are a group of reckless, rich, well-dressed teenagers that participate in drinking, fighting, and jumping the rival gang. The Greasers, working-class teens known for long greased back hair, fighting, drinking, recklessness, and sometimes organized crime. The story follows Ponyboy Curtis, a smart fourteen year old greaser who’s lifestyle and family are directly involved in the greaser scene. His older brothers, Darry and Sodapop, work jobs to support the family after their parents die. Darry, the oldest, works two jobs to keep the family afloat. Sodapop drops out of school to work at a gas station to support them. They encourage Ponyboy to stay in school to “get out” and go to college, wishing the best for him. Johnny, one of the more sensible and anti-violence members, gets jumped and beaten up one night. He’s known as the scared one of the group, and the other members try to protect him and make him feel comfortable. He doesn’t have a very good home life, and primarily finds his idea of family in his friend group. Another character, Dallas, is the most reckless of the group. He goes around picking fights and drinking, in and out of jail. He’s protective and loyal though. One night Ponyboy and Darry get into a fight. He goes by to hang out with Johnny to seek comfort. While Johnny and Ponyboy are hanging out at a park, a group of Socs jump them and attempt to drown Ponyboy. In a sudden panic, Johnny uses a switchblade to stab one of them, causing him to bleed out. The two flee, running to Dally (Dallas) for help. He instructs them to hide out in another town for a few days. They travel to the hideout, guilt racking up in their brains. Dally comes by a few days later to check in on them, and they go out for a little bit. However, when they come back, they find the hideout on fire. Children are caught up in the fire, and the three rush in to rescue the kids. Johnny and Dally are both badly hurt. The group is rushed to the hospital. Ponyboy gets out alright and reunites with his brothers. Johnny and Dally stay in the hospital for a few days, trying to recover. Johnny is severely injured and will not be able to walk properly the rest of his life. Meanwhile, the murder causes a rupture in the town’s gang relations. The greasers prepare for a rumble with the Socs, and Ponyboy is caught between wanting to join and stay safe. At the end, he ends up participating, with Dally coming in at the last minute to help, despite still being slightly injured. The greasers win the fight, and Dally and Ponyboy rush back to the hospital to see Johnny once more. He tells Ponyboy to “Stay gold” before passing away. Dally is distraught, running off. Before Ponyboy can stop him, he starts causing chaos by robbing stores and making threats. The police shoot him down. Darry and Sodapop hear about this, coming to Ponyboy’s comfort as the events unfold. In the end, Ponyboy shows up to a course hearing concerning the murder. The Socs members who jumped him agree to testify that it was in self defense. Ponyboy is acquitted and returns to school. His grades drop however, and in an attempt to save his English grade, he tells the story of all that has happened for a final assignment grade.

The story primarily focuses on how the lifestyles of people in socially different gangs are more similar than what people think. The story attempts to relate to adolescents, but portrays them in a way that’s relatable on a personal level. While the events that unfold in the story are more intense than what a normal teenager would go through, the exploration of identity and moral choice by the main character gives the reader a chance to question their own identity roles and choices. It depicts the changing identity roles of those in adolescence, and challenges the morals they might consider when hanging out with a certain group of people. This challenging of social order allows for the reader to see past the black and white outlines of the two groups, seeing that throughout the novel that despite vast social customs, that everyone is still human at the end of the day.

Erikson’s Stages of Development

Ponyboy - Identity vs. Role Confusion - At the beginning of the story, Ponyboy starts off in identity diffusion. He is good at schoolwork and a talented runner on his track team. He hangs out with his greaser friends and family, casually adopting their lifestyle. However, he has not chosen one over the other. When Johnny commits the murder though, he is forced to choose. He decides to run away with Johnny, showing a commitment to the rough greaser lifestyle, against his will. This is his beginning of Identity Foreclosure, as he is forced to commit to this identity under the pressure of getting caught or in trouble. When he reunites with his brothers though and decides to participate in the rumble despite being given an out, he willingly commits to joining with the greaser lifestyle. He chooses to fully adopt the identity and support his brothers and friends in their fight. This is his change to identity achievement.

Darry - Intimacy vs. Isolation - Darry is a young adult who has finished school and dreams about going to college. However, after an accident that kills his parents, he is forced to take jobs to support the family. Ponyboy says he doesn’t believe Darry should be living the greaser lifestyle - he’s too mature and clever to be fooling around. He is forced to take on the role of caregiver to his two brothers though. The relationship between Darry and Ponyboy is directly explored in the story. Darry is strict with Ponyboy if he stays out late, gets into the slightest mischief, or doesn’t finish his homework. Darry doesn’t hold Sodapop to the same standards. This upsets Ponyboy. Darry is in isolation, as his attempts to connect with Sodapop and Ponyboy are kept to a minimum. He is strict with Ponyboy because he is trying to take on the parental figure role while also struggling to recognize what he wants for himself. His relationship with Soda isn’t close either. He struggles to form a good relationship with Ponyboy. But after he comes back from his escape, the two reconcile after their fight. Darry realizes that he is strict on Ponyboy because he wants the best for him, but doesn’t know how to give him space or be accommodating. The two find common ground and strengthen their relationship.

Sodapop - Intimacy vs. Isolation - At the beginning of the story when Ponyboy characterizes the members of his group, he mentions that Soda desires to elope with a girl he loves and start over. The two of them are around sixteen-seventeen years old, and Darry would disapprove. He was hoping to subtly live a life with her. After the fire and murder incidents though, Soda reveals that his girlfriend has left for Florida and not returned any of his letters. He feels isolated, as the one he loved has left him. He also has to deal with the fighting between Ponyboy and Darry, and doesn’t know how to deal with it. He is caught in the middle, and doesn’t know what to do.

Dally - Intimacy vs. Isolation - Unlike other characters that will be talked about/have been talked about, Dally has pretty good relationships going on for him. He is a rough person by nature and has his fair share of problems, but his loyalty and willingness to help others demonstrates his strength in intimacy. When Johnny and Ponyboy are desperate for escape help, Dally risks his safety to tell them where to hide out and provides advice. He even comes up to visit and check on them, demonstrating the trust that he has between the two of them. His caring and fiercely loyal nature shine through his solid and steady relationships with his fellow greasers.

Johnny - Identity vs. Role Confusion - At the beginning of the story, Johnny is known to be a non-violent member of the greasers who cares about his friends and doesn’t wish to fight and get hurt. He’s a core part of the greasers, being a sort of solid ground that everyone in the group wishes to protect and care for. He casually adopts the identity of a greaser. During one scene at the beginning of the story though, he and Ponyboy are seen hanging out with a group of Socs girls at the movie theater. The girls comment how Ponyboy and Johnny are nice boys and not like the other greasers. Here, Johnny and Ponyboy are forced to question why they hang around the greasers. Johnny and Ponyboy question their natures and personalities. But when Ponyboy is in danger, Johnny stabs a Soc to protect Ponyboy, fully assuming the characteristics of a Greaser.

Kohlberg’s Theory of Moral Development

Ponyboy - Conventional morality - When Johnny commits the murder, Ponyboy follows along by fleeing because of the peer pressure of the moment. However, he later recalls when hiding out that he contemplated turning himself and Johnny in because he was scared. He desires to abide by laws of the government, despite not doing this action himself. He feels guilty for running away, and realizes that he wants to comply with the law. When Dally, Ponyboy, and Johnny briefly leave the hideout to get food, they come back to discover that it is on fire and children are still inside. During this outing, Ponyboy decided to go back to town and turn himself in. When the fire gets worse, Ponyboy chooses to rush in when his friends do, and doesn’t care about getting in trouble with the police. While this is a slight sign of postconventional morality, Ponyboy is primarily driven by the law though.

Darry - Conventional morality - When Dally comes to check on Johnny and Ponyboy in hiding, Dally brings a letter written by Darry. He asks if they are okay, but urges Ponyboy and Johnny to come home and turn themselves in. He is concerned for the safety of his brother and friend, but he wants them to obey the law and stay out of more trouble if they can. His insistence that Johnny and Ponyboy do the right thing in accordance with the law demonstrates an alignment with conventional morality.

Sodapop - Conventional morality - While Sodapop’s morality isn’t very focused on in the story, it is shown in the letter that he agrees with Darry’s urgence that they come home and turn themselves in properly. He is a little more casual about following the law than Darry is, but he still believes that in the end, Johnny and Ponyboy should be honest with the law and come home.

Dally - Postconventional morality - Dally doesn’t care about getting in trouble with the law or not. He picks fights, steals, and carries weapons to threaten people. He decides to risk getting in trouble when he tells Johnny and Ponyboy about the hideout, even more so risking himself when he comes by to check up on them. In postconventional morality, few people tend to prioritize their own reasons over the law. Dally shows this explicitly when he jumps in to assist Johnny and Ponyboy when they’re hiding. When Johnny dies, he decides to go berserk and rob stores and threaten people because he is upset by Johnny’s death. He doesn’t care that he’s going to get in trouble carrying a weapon that people would find threatening. He decides to be reckless because it makes him feel something, and doesn’t care about the repercussions.

Johnny - Postconventional morality - When Johnny and Ponyboy are jumped by the Socs, he has a switchblade on him for defense. He had been badly jumped one time before, and to protect himself in the future, he decided to start carrying a switchblade. But when Ponyboy was being drowned, and there was no one around to get help, he desperately tried to rescue Ponyboy. He didn’t think about the consequences of killing the Soc member. He wanted to defend Ponyboy, and went past conventional morality to defend his friend. He feels very guilty for his actions later, and regrets doing it. But he knew that he needed to protect his friend, and he was willing to do anything to save him. When the children are stuck in the fire, he comes out to save them. He doesn’t care that he could be at risk for getting in trouble with the police when he comes out of hiding. He wants to protect the kids, and this demonstrates postconventional morality.

Piaget’s Stages of Cognitive Development

Ponyboy - Formal operational - Ponyboy is able to reason the consequences of what hypothetically being caught would do. He knows that Johnny would probably be executed, Dally jailed for his actions here and record, and himself sent to reform school. He is able to reason and understand that with the logic of participating in a murder crime, he could get in trouble. His ability to abstractly reason the consequences demonstrates traits from the formal operational stage.

Darry - Formal operational - One night in the story, Ponyboy stays out late without coming home to tell his family. Darry gets really worried, and debates calling the police to come look for him. By technicality, the police would have to come in and investigate the living situation of the brothers, which Darry wants to avoid. By understanding the potential consequences of his actions, and being able to abstractly reason the outcomes, he demonstrates formal operational understanding.

Sodapop - Formal operational - Sodapop originally desires to elope with his girlfriend. He knows that hypothetically this isn’t likely, but he still recognizes his dream. When his girlfriend leaves and moves to Florida, Sodapop sends letters. When they come back unopened, he can deduce that his girlfriend is ignoring him and silently trying to move on. By understanding the social cues used in this scenario, he demonstrates more advanced reasoning.

Dally - Formal operational - When Johnny and Ponyboy come to Dally for help, Dally instructs them to take a train to another town and hide in an abandoned church on a mountain. He comes by to check on them a few days later, and is asked how he knows about this place. He says that he found the place when he was visiting a relative in the countryside, and took note of it in case he needed a hideout. To be able to abstractly reason that this would be a good place to lay low in a hypothetical situation, Dally demonstrates abstract reasoning. Johnny - Formal operational - When Johnny is first jumped, he doesn’t have a weapon to protect himself. He decides to start carrying a switchblade in the hypothetical situation that he gets jumped again. He ends up needing the switchblade when he’s attacked with Ponyboy. This ability to reason that another situation like this could unfold is an example of hypothetical reasoning. Also, when the two are fleeing the scene, he determines that Dally is the best person to ask for help from. Knowing his previous history as a frequent run-in with the law, he suspects that Dally will know ways to stay hidden since he frequents this escapist behavior. This is also an example of deductive reasoning, a characteristic of the formal operational stage.

If you have any questions on how I should further elaborate, please let me know! I've only just freshly read this book and would love to discuss.

[greasers-stole-my-social-life]

The Secrets We Tell //

Dallas Winston x OC Curtis sister

Summary: After Cynthia Curtis suddenly gets iced out by her best friend, the notorious Dallas Winston, she’s desperate to take her mind off of him. After hearing about an end-of-the-year party at her school, she jumps at the opportunity to go. She no longer wants to even allow Dallas in her mind because to him, she’s now nothing. Tonight won’t be ruined by the infamous Dallas Winston.

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written, but I hope y’all like this one! Lmk if y’all wanna Pt II from Dallas’ perspective, and lmk what u think!

~~~

One whole week. An entire week without even being acknowledged by my best friend. Dallas Winston, known for being a heartbreaker and trouble maker, but never as someone who’s disloyal. He’s not one to shy away from confrontation, so it comes as a surprise to me that he won’t even tell me what he’s upset about. His devotion to the ones he calls friends is something most people admire about the hot head from New York, and something I’ve always flaunted on his behalf to those who don’t know him. How is it that that same person has now iced out one of the first friends that he’s made in Tulsa? How can he throw 6 years out the window like it means nothing? On Monday, I walked to the DX to bother Soda and Steve before going home, and unsurprisingly, Dallas and Johnny were already there. But, would you believe, the second Dallas sees me, him and Johnny say their goodbyes and walk the opposite direction. And on Wednesday, I come home with a box of Razzles, one of Dallas’ favorites, but when I walk through the door with my usual smile, he eyes me up and down, says goodbye to Johnny and Pony, and leaves! Leaves without saying anything! Not even bothering me for Razzles and tackling me for the box like usual! He just leaves! And he calls himself a best friend?!

It stings. But then I get angry. If he can forget about me at the drop of a hat, then I can do the same. I will live my life without Dallas Winston, and be perfectly fine in doing so.

***

“C’mon, Dar, I’ll be back before midnight!” I plead again, following him from the truck and into the house full of our regular group, except Johnny and Dally. The guys watch diligently as we bicker about the party for the 100th time this week. He sighs and swings himself around to face me, “Absolutely not, Cynthia. Not only is it a Soc party, but it’s a Soc party held in the woods. Forget it.” Darry didn’t understand why I needed to go to this party so badly, and it’s not like I could just tell him that my best friend wasn’t talking to me and I needed to distract myself; he’s too matter-of-fact to understand how I feel. He turns back around, and I decide to try one final time, “Okay, first off, it ain’t in the woods, it’s an after-game party at the park, and second, it isn’t held by the Socs; it’s a whole-school party.” Without saying anything else, we file into the house and Darry goes straight to the bathroom for a quick, cold shower.

I watch him turn the corner to the hallway, cross my arms, and plop down on the couch beside Pony. “Why do you even wanna go? You hate school parties,” Pony inquires, placing a bookmark in his copy of To Kill a Mockingbird and glancing over to me. “It’s my last year of high school and I’ve never gone to a party. This is the last one of the year, and I just wanna see what it’s like I guess,” I lie. “Those parties suck anyways...there’s always some soc that drinks too much and convinces his friends to go beat up a greaser with him,” Soda chimes as him and Steve play blackjack at the kitchen table. I narrow my eyes and stare at them in disbelief, “You guys used to go to those parties all of the time, and you still do!” Soda and Steve share a glance with each other before Steve pipes up, “And? We love fighting; it’d be weirder if we weren’t there.” I scoff and throw my head back against the couch as Pony begins to read again.

I sharply sit up as an idea pops into my head, causing Pony to jolt and drop his book. I earn a glare from Pony as he picks up his book again, and I make sure to mouth a ‘sorry’ to him as I give a light squeeze on his shoulder. “Hey, Two? Theoretically speaking, what would it take for you to sneak me into a school party, and tell Darry that we were going to the library?” I ask sweetly. His eyes don’t leave the TV screen as he replies, “It’d take a million dollars for me to lie to Superman, especially when the lie is as unbelievable as me goin’ to a library. Plus, I wouldn’t want to be responsible if you got jumped at the party. Your brothers would skin me alive.” 

Darry enters the living room again, smelling less like tar and sweat and more like tar and soap, and takes a seat in dad’s old chair in the corner, unfolding the newspaper. “Hey, Dar?” I start sweetly. “If it’s a question about the party, drop it,” he states coldly, not taking his eyes off the newspaper. “What if someone came with me? Like, Soda or Two-Bit?” I suggest softly. Darry lays the newspaper in his lap and lets out a big sigh, “Are you going to bother me about this for the rest of the day if I say ‘no’?” “Yup, and for the rest of your life too,” I respond matter-of-factly. “If you can find someone to go with you that I approve of, fine, but I want you back at 10, not 11, not 12. And, if anything happens tonight, you’re never leaving this house again,” he says sternly before picking up his newspaper again.

***

“I still can’t believe you managed to get Darry to say yes to me being responsible for ya,” Two-Bit ponders as he drives us to the party. “I can be very annoying when I need to be,” I smile cockily, watching the street lights flash by the car. The air is cold as it whips through the cracked car windows, the moon full. With it being so close to summer, I would’ve thought it would’ve been warmer, and I’m second guessing my attire. Darry was right, I should’ve opted for jeans instead of this stupid, white skirt that was almost too short for me. Luckily, I had tights underneath, but when it’s cold in Tulsa, you’re gonna be cold regardless of what you wear.

I wonder what Dallas would think of my attire. He knows I hate skirts, but I wear them because of how much Mama said she liked them on me. And he knows I hate parties, and he probably would’ve made some remark about how stupid I’m going to look showing up in some tattered sneakers and an un-ironed black button up. Then he would’ve made fun of the Socs that are gonna be there, probably faking a gag at the very idea of them. He would’ve had the idea in mind that we would tell Darry we were running to the store so that Dallas could buy some cigs, when in reality, he would drag me to another part of town with a house full of drunk, lively greasers that smelt of Brylcreem and cheap beer.

It would be fun—but no. I am going to have a great time without my best friend. I am going to meet new people and celebrate my youth before I graduate and have to get a job and figure out my future. Maybe I’ll drink until my stomach hurts and go home drunk—or maybe not actually; I think Darry would kill me before I ever got the chance to graduate if I did that. But maybe I’ll drink a little! Just enough to feel a soft buzz that makes the world seem less daunting!

“You’re awful quiet for someone who’s been raging about this party for the last week,” Two comments as we’re stopped at a red light. I haven’t told anyone about Dally icing me out, and I probably shouldn’t, but when an opportunity presents itself…

“Hey, Two? Has Dally been acting weird to you?” I question as I stare out the window. “Not really...” he trails off. I turn to look at him and notice he’s chewing the corner of his mouth. “You’re lying,” I state bluntly, turning to face him with a stern expression. He sighs and giggles slightly, “Not lying, just avoiding, babe.” “Avoiding what?” I press, not taking no for an answer. “I’m really not supposed to say anything. When guys say stuff to each other, it stays between them. I don’t make the rules, I just follow them,” he explains politely. “Liar! You never follow the rules! None of us do!” I laugh, playfully punching him in the shoulder. “Okay, well, you have to drop it on this one. Trouble your brothers with it or somethin’,” he shrugs as he pulls into the dirt parking lot where other Socs and Greasers stand by their cars, some staring us down while others give a quick wave. “He talked to my brothers?” I ask. But Two ignores me, and gets out of the car before he can answer and I can ask more. I step out and walk beside Two and a few other greasers we know that we parked beside.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways, I’m at the party I jumped through hoops to get to. I’m just going to have fun, and ignore my thoughts of Dallas for now. I’m at the party, I’m going to have fun. I’m at the party, I’m going to have fun. I’m at the party–

“Hey! Cynthia, right?” A soft, yet husk voice calls out from behind us. Adam Martin, a tall, dirty blonde, brown-eyed gem from Texas that moved here a couple months ago runs up to us. I don’t know much about Adam other than he has a younger sister named May, made it on the football team despite starting at our school halfway through the year, and he’s awful at math to the point where it’s laughable; but it’s impossible to laugh at him because he’s far too kind. And surprisingly, he’s a Greaser with all of the Soc qualities. Unlike us Greasers, he’s popular, drives a brand new stinger that he won in a raffle a couple months ago, doesn’t put grease in his hair, but has frizz-less curls, and he sports a varsity jacket around school while every girl swoons over him and tacks his last name onto theirs in their notebooks instead of taking notes in English.

“Uh, yeah, we have trig together, right?” I inquire with a smile. “Yeah, that’s right! I didn’t know you’d be here, I’ve never seen you at any parties,” he observes with a big smile, and the whitest, shiniest teeth I’d ever seen. I turn to Two-Bit and wave him off as I walk beside Adam. Two nods his head and runs along with his buddies to find a keg. “Yeah, usually I’m much to busy with homework for parties,” I explain, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, then clasping my hands behind my back nervously as we continue. “I wish you would’ve come to more,” he divulges, and suddenly my cheeks are red and my smile is wide. “Why do you say?” I chirp, glancing up at his chocolate-swirled, hazel eyes. “I’ve kinda always wanted to talk to you since I got here, but I was pretty nervous…especially ‘cuz when I mention your name, your brothers and their friends get brought up a lot. And, I hope I don’t offend you when I say, but they sound like a pretty scary bunch,” he laughs as we reach a vacant bench at the heart of the party and take our seats.

I scrunch my nose with an awkward smile before explaining, “Yeah, I think that’s why a lot of people don’t talk to me. But I can assure you that they only fight if they have good reason!” He chuckles and says, “Well, guess you can’t argue with that.” We both let out a light laugh before catching a glance at each other, the moon and field lights illuminating each other’s features. “Do you want to get something to drink?” I ask, breaking up the moment. He smiles, “Allow me.” He gets up, leaving me at the bench. I glance around and catch Two’s eyes, and flash him a thumbs up so that he can return to his group.

See? I can have fun without Dallas! Who needs him when you have Adam Martin to keep you company.

I see Adam at one of the coolers, taken away in conversation with Chet Grimes, fellow football player and professional douchebag. I hide my discontent at the sight of Chet, and observe who else is at the party. Lisa Hughes, Cindy Sanchez, Heath Callister, Dallas Winston, James Turnigan—Dallas?! What is he doing here?! He hates these stupid high school parties!

Dallas stands beside Sarah Hannigan as she rambles on and on to him about something incoherent to me, all the while, he appears to be looking around the party. Perhaps he’s people watching like I am. Or maybe he’s looking for me—no. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t be because he has no reason to. Clearly he’s upset, and that’s why he’s not speaking to me anymore, so he probably has friends with him and he’s looking for them. Whatever, it doesn’t matter what he’s doing.

I look around for Adam, but seem to have lost him in the crowd. Not wanting Dallas to see me by myself, I get up quick and look around for any sign of Two and his friends. It’s as though every single student decided to show up right here, right now. I squeeze past different groups of people and hear a familiar laugh. Thank God, I found Two-Bit!

Two’s already drunker than a gambler at the racetrack, and normally, I’d be annoyed, but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I’ve never been happier to see Two in my life. I smile at him and the other Greasers before joining the circle that they’ve created. While the group babbles about their greatest hits against Socs, my eyes dance around the party to try and find Adam. Again, he’s nowhere to be seen, and I try to listen to what the guys are saying. But it’s hard to concentrate when you know your, maybe, best friend is around you, yet you can’t talk to them because your pride prevents you from it.

Why was Dallas here anyways? He’s the one that always talked about how much he hated the whole concept of high school, and how I should just drop out like him. But now he’s here? Doing what? He’d much rather be at the rodeo or at Buck’s, and he wouldn’t be caught dead at some high school kickback at the park. Or at least not usually. Maybe he’s looking for a fight with an easy target? But why would he choose a drunken Soc? He prefers a challenge, even when he’s way in over his head; I can’t possibly imagine him hanging around a party looking to fight some rando wearing tan corduroys and freshly polished shoes.

“There you are!” Adam exclaims behind me, startling me ever so slightly. I turn to face him before he apologizes kindly and hands me a beer in a red solo cup. I say thank you, and follow him to a group of his friends nearby, taking a final glance over my shoulder to see if I could see Dallas again. But I don’t. It’s as though he vanished. Maybe I had imagined him here? Probably, I mean, with how much thought I’m giving him, you’d think I was crazy.

Even though Adam and I stand with the group, we have our own conversation as though the others don’t exist. His family’s broken, like mine, but not in the same way. He has a mom and dad, but they treat him like he doesn’t exist because they’re too focused with work and his little sister, May, who’s just 3 years old. But he explains that she sees him, and he’s okay with things that way. And believe it or not, that Stinger that he won? He absolutely despises it. He jokes about it constantly, causing me to laugh more than I should. He says the car is way too small for a 6’4” guy like him, and he’s embarrassed every time he has to squeeze into that tiny sports car after school. And even more embarrassing, the first time he got out of the car, he practically fell out because one of his shoes got caught on the edge of the floor. His reenactment of the event causes me to laugh louder than I ever should, especially when, during the explanation, Adam actually falls and spills some of his beer on his pristine varsity jacket. I help him back up, and he excuses himself as he chuckles to go and find something to clean up his jacket.

Realizing that the rest of the group doesn’t care too much for my laughing presence, I step away to find Two again, finishing off whatever is in my cup. I see Two by a keg and start making my way over. Perhaps it’s the buzz from the alcohol or the disorienting high of laughing so much, but I don’t realize the tall, dark figure standing beside Two until it’s too late.

“Hey, Cyn,” Dallas greets sheepishly. Two giggles ever so slightly and says, “I will leave y’all to it.” I watch him laugh and stumble away towards a group of girls who seem to be amused at his behavior. “What was that about?” I ask, trying to hold my composure and not seem buzzed. “Hell if I know, that’s just Two, but what are you doing here anyways?” Dallas inquires, seemingly bothered by my presence. “I could ask you the same. You don’t even go to school,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest.

“What’s your deal?”

“Seriously? You’re gonna ask me that?”

“Okay, fine. Forget it then. What time are you supposed to be home?”

“Don’t see why that would matter to you.”

“Jeez, lay off would ya? It’s a quarter to ten, I can’t imagine Dar would want you out any later than that. Why don’t I take you–”

“No.”

Dallas stares in disbelief. I narrow my brows and turn away to pour myself more beer from the keg, but can’t seem to figure out the spout. Dallas watches in amusement before teasing, “M‘kay, lightweight, let me get that for you.” He scoffs as he fills my cup, and suddenly my eyes start to burn with tears. “Why are you mad at me?” I wince. Dallas suddenly looks confused, “Mad at you—why are you about to cry?” “I’m not, and yeah, you’re clearly mad at me. You don’t talk to be anymore, and you ignore me when we’re at home, and you obviously told Two-Bit something ‘cuz he lies every time I ask him about ya,” I fight back tears, but a couple stream down my cheeks before I wipe them away. He laughs slightly before handing me my drink and guiding me to a fallen tree by the field for us to sit on.

“I’m not mad at you, and also, I’d prefer you didn’t talk to Two about me because half of it won’t even be accurate,” he chuckles, playing with a ring on his finger. “If you’re not mad at me, why aren’t you talking to me? Obviously something’s wrong!” I exclaim as I stand up quickly and face him, causing a little bit of my beer to spill out over my hand. Dallas scoffs again, looking away from me before standing up as well, “It doesn’t matter what’s wrong anyways. You’re fine whether I’m here or not, and I’m sure Darry prefers it that way too! I drink, I smoke, I keep you out past curfew–”

“So all this is because of Darry? He told you–”

“Darry didn’t tell me anything! It’s me, I’m telling you! We don’t make a good team, and you deserve better.”

“What?! Where is this even coming from?! Never once have I said to you I’m better than you–”

“You don’t have to!”

“Cynthia, is everything okay?” Adam surprises me, and I turn around to look at him, tears now freely flowing. “Everything’s fine, she’s just–” Dallas starts. “I didn’t ask you,” Adam glares at Dallas before turning to me again softly, “Are you okay?” My stomach begins to turn, but I confirm, “Yeah, everything’s fine. This is my brothers’ friend, Dallas Winston, the biggest grade-A asshole.” “Why don’t I take you home,” Adam suggests, holding out his hand. My stomach grumbles again before Dallas chimes, “I’ve got it, her brothers won’t be happy with a stranger taking her home anyways.” “Well I’m not letting her go with you if she’s crying and yelling at you,” Adam states firmly. Their words begin to get muffled as the familiar taste of alcohol begins to resurface.

Oh no.

I turn away from both of them, holding onto Dallas’ forearm as I throw up onto the grass in front of me. Onlookers gasp, giggle, point, and everything in between. Adam takes a step back with a look of disgust on his face, while Dallas is quick to place a hand on my lower back while the other holds my hair out of my face. As I lean over and look at my foamy vomit that’s sinking into the ground, I turn bright red, not even wanting to look at everyone else around me.

I’m going to die of embarrassment before I ever graduate, this is it.

Before anyone has a chance to make any sort of joke, Dallas shouts for everyone to hear, “If any of you so much as look at her funny, I will personally make it my mission to make sure you never step foot in Oklahoma ever again!” Eventually, everyone turns around and goes back to their conversations, terrified of the infamous Dallas Winston causing them harm in any way, and I finally look around and don’t feel as scared. “You okay, doll face?” Dallas whispers, keeping his hand on my lower back as I stand beside him and look at Adam. “Uh, you know, I’d better get going, but it was great meeting you, Cynthia,” he awkwardly gives his farewell, taking a final glance at the vomit before walking away briskly.

I cringe at the interaction before glancing up at Dallas. He can’t help but smirk and sigh, “Let’s go home, barf bag.” I glare at him before turning away to smile. As we walk back to the car, a drunken Two-Bit’s laugh can be heard along with some disgruntled Socs. Dallas hands me the keys before saying firmly, “Passenger’s seat, not driver’s, kid.” He walks away to retrieve our giggling jester, and I continue making my way to Buck’s car.

I’d know that car anywhere. Dallas drives it more than Buck does most of the time, and it’s the first car I ever drove. Dallas and I had gotten high when we were 14 and were in an abandoned parking lot when I mentioned how terrified I was to learn how to drive. Suddenly, I was being egged on to try it out, and how there’s no better time than the present. Yes, I definitely should’ve been sober, and yes, I probably shouldn’t have listened to a higher-than-a-kite Dallas Winston, but there I was, behind the wheel of a beautiful, red Thunderbird, telling Dallas how nervous I was that I was going to crash it. At one point, Dallas grabbed control of the wheel when I was heading towards the only other car in the lot, but once we diverted a 15 mile per hour crash that definitely would’ve taken our lives, we put the car in park and laughed hysterically. When it’s just Dallas and I, he still teases me about how awful of a driver I was at that time, and I can’t help but laugh at the thought of having to explain to Buck how I crashed into the only other car in the parking lot, going under the speed limit, while high on one puff at six o’clock on a random Thursday. I wish I could go back to that moment.

I try to stick the key into the lock, but struggle before actually being able to unlock the car door. As if on cue, Two and Dallas show up right as I get the door open, and Two practically dives into the backseat. Dallas pushes the seat back into place and makes a dramatic, yet sarcastic, gesture for me to get in, somewhat gently closing the door after me.

I glance back at Two, and he’s nearly knocked out, his eyes getting heavier and heavier the more I stare, and by the time Dallas settles into the driver’s seat and starts the car, Two’s out like a light. I turn and look at Dallas with a light smile as he turns his head to back out. Before he does, we stare at each other for a moment. Without saying anything, he tells me that he’s not angry at me, he’s scared of something. He gets the car moving again, and we begin our short journey back home.

“On the bright side, we’ll make it back right at ten, so your brother won’t be chewing anyone’s head off tonight,” Dallas comments, pulling a cigarette out of the pocket inside his light brown, leather jacket. “Light this for me would ya?” Dallas asks, using the cig to gesture to the glove compartment where Buck keeps the lighter. The lighter, which is nearly empty, struggles to ignite, but of course, the second it does, I burn my thumb and drop it on the floor of the car, cursing under my breath and cradling my hand. “Klutz,” Dallas teases before taking my hand, and briefly sucking the stinging part of my thumb to cool the burn before letting go of my hand. Seemingly shocked by his own actions, Dallas sits up straight in the seat and stares forward, clearing his throat. My heart is pounding out of my chest as butterflies tickle the sides of my stomach.

What was that? Why am I feeling like this? Was Dallas somehow attractive? My best friend, Dallas? The same Dallas who belches after every sip of soda? The one who hocks a loogie after every cigarette and measures how far it goes? The same one who leaves the toilet seat up?! Attractive?! No way in hell! I’m just buzzed and confused and coming off the anxiety of embarrassment. There’s no way that that was attractive. Think about how many girls he’s done that to. Gross. Think gross thoughts, think gross thoughts, think gross thoughts–

“So Buck has this new broad staying with him, and, get this, she wants him to quit drinking to be with her. And guess what he said? He said he would! Can you believe that?” Dallas gossips animatedly. I shake my head from its brain fog and exclaim, “Nuh-uh, no way! Buck? Who owns a bar? That’s insane.” “That’s what I’m saying, there’s no way that’s gonna work, I hate to say it,” Dallas chuckles. “Well…” I trail off with a smile, imagining how whipped Buck must be to consider quitting.

“‘Well’ what?”

“Maybe he really likes her.”

“So?”

“Maybe he really wants to change for her.”

“Not Buck Merrill, that’s impossible.”

“Don’t be so severe on ‘im. What if he really sees a future with her? It might be worth it.”

“The futures not even guaranteed though…I mean, what if they end up hating each other? Or she leaves him or cheats on him or–”

“And what if she doesn’t?”

The car’s silent, then Dallas says, “I guess it would work out then. They’d be happy.”

I look at the small burn on my thumb and run my other thumb over it. It’s no longer stinging, but there’s a small blister. The thought of Dallas fixing the burn crosses my mind again, and I find myself smiling wide.

Have I ever made Dallas feel this way?

We pull up to my house, but neither of us move, stuck in the comfort of each other’s, and Two-Bit’s, I guess, company. I search the depths of my mind for the right thing to say, anything to call him my best friend again. I just want him around again, even if it was just to tell me how awful of a driver I am, or how I can’t hold my alcohol, or how I’m wearing a skirt even though I hate them. How could this have happened? How could we go from goofing around everyday to crossing the street when we see each other? How do we go back?

“I was never mad at you,” Dallas starts, fiddling around with his Saint Christopher as he stares down the street and scoffs, “I don’t think I ever could be mad at you, even if I really wanted to be.”

Knowing Dallas wouldn’t look at me when trying to formulate some sort of twisted apology, I stare down at the empty lighter on the ground, pick it up, and mess with the flint. “Then why’d you stop talking to me?” I question sadly.

“I don’t know…It’s like one day I woke up and realized you would be moving forward without me, y’know,” he uncomfortably snickers.

“What could you possibly mean? What would I be moving on to?” I press, holding the lighter between my hands and staring out the windshield.

He scoffs in disbelief, “C’mon, Cyn. You’re smart and wanna leave Tulsa, so you will. You put in those college applications, you’re saving up for a car, you even talk about your dream of living in California like it’s set in stone. Like there’s no talking you out of it. It’s going to happen.”

I turn to face him, and explain, “I’m not going to stay in Tulsa forever, of course not, but that doesn’t mean I should be punished for it. I want change, and I want to start somewhere fresh and have the freedom to try everything. That’s not here in Tulsa, let alone Oklahoma, and you’ve even talked about wanting to leave here. I just don’t buy it, Dal. What’s the real reason you shut me out? And be honest.”

He finally looks at me, his eyes filled with annoyance and a touch of anger. “I don’t like how you make me feel,” he admits coldly.

I’m taken aback, thinking about how to answer. Before I can, he adds, “It’s just annoying that I can’t be how I usually am around you…Like tonight for instance. I should be drunk and trying to pick up every broad I see, but I’m not. I’m completely sober and driving you home, making sure you get home before curfew, and making sure you don’t go home with some jock who you barely know.

“And last week, when you showed up early to Buck’s and waited for me to get there, and then that creep from Nebraska hit on you. And instead of knocking his teeth in, I bit my tongue and walked you out. And that’s not me! I love fighting! I would’ve jumped at the chance to knock him to the ground! But I didn’t because I knew it would’ve made you cry. You would’ve resented me for it, and I would’ve had to make it up to you a hundred times over because I would’ve scared you.

“I got so tired of you, but I hated not having you around at the same time, which is why I went to that stupid party. I hate that I feel the need to be more like that dipshit you were talking to tonight—And I don’t mean a jock, I mean being some sort of prep that’s respectable and on his way to becoming one of those stupid neighbors that’s obsessed with how his lawn looks or something. I don’t want to be that! You know how much I hate preps, and I know how much you hate them, so why do I feel the need to be that way for you?! It’s not fair.”

I can’t help but let out a quick laugh, “Why would you care what I think?” Dallas turns away with a huff, and before he gets the chance to say anything, Two chimes in, “Because he likes you!” My smile falls and those butterflies start dancing around my stomach again. Dallas is quick to turn and face the smart ass sitting in the back seat, “I told you not to say anything!” Two just laughs and sits up in the back, laughing directly in the face of danger. I’m quick to push Dallas back into the front before he does something he’ll regret.

“Dallas, is that true?!” I interrogate, making sure to keep a neutral tone despite feeling a strange sense of joy. Dallas looks to me, his eyes softening, but before he even gets a chance to answer, my door is opened, and Darry stands leaning over the car, “You’re late.” I turn to Darry, then back to Dallas, who hasn’t said a word and has since turned a soft shade of red. I face Darry again and smile sheepishly, “But I’m home, aren’t I?” Two-Bit leans over the center console and burps, “Sorry for bringing her back late, Sir.” Darry just roles his eyes and steps away from the door so that I can get out. “Thanks, Dally,” Darry says before closing the door. “No problem, Superman,” Dallas jokes before starting the car back up. I take a final glance before he speeds off with Two-Bit in tow, and I can almost make out a beaming smile from the guy everyone deems as angry at the world and bitter.

I grin widely as we make our way inside, where Soda and Pony sit on the couch, saying their “ooh”’s as we walk through the door. But I don’t care. No matter what punishment Darry gives, it doesn’t matter. Dallas Winston, the boy I’ve known since I was 11, who I thought I had all figured out, was a complete mystery. Dallas, my best friend, has been hiding a part of himself from me, and I had no idea.

As Darry explains the consequences that come from being out past curfew, I stare blankly into his eyes. He yaps on and on, eventually pointing out the smell of alcohol hovering around me, but even then, I can’t stop thinking about Dallas. How long has he liked me? Why hasn’t he tried to make a move on me, after all, isn’t that what he’s kinda known for? If Dallas wants something, he always gets it. And why would he have gone out with Sylvia? Could Two-Bit have been confused? He has been drinking…

But he smiled.

He doesn’t smile like that very often. Was a part of him happy that Two said what he said? Dallas isn’t one to talk feelings, so maybe by Two-Bit blurting out his secret, it was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. And that would mean, it’s true. Dallas Winston likes me. Likes me.

“…grounded for a month,” Darry finishes, pulling me from my thoughts. “Yeah, okay,” I agree quickly, getting up from the kitchen table and walking to my room. “What?! No argument?!” Darry shouts as I close my bedroom door, throw myself onto my bed, and squeal into my pillow, something I normally would be ashamed of, but I can’t help it.

I wonder what Dallas is thinking right now. I wonder if he’s thinking of me, or maybe he’s too preoccupied with getting Two-Bit home. Hopefully Dallas isn’t too harsh on Two, he was just being his usual self. And surely, he must’ve learned his lesson; never tell Two-Bit Mathews who you like. But I’m sure glad he did.

[melodiimelon]

The Outsiders Personalities Based on my opinion <3

Ponyboy:

He would probably be that one kid who would tell the teacher that there was homework and have a room full of opps.

Hates Steve with all his heart because hes jealous asf.

Would be like the made in romania kid (he prolly is)

Canonically smokes the most out of the gang, but he uses a penjamin because he thinks its “safer”

Is in orchestra and plays cello

Smoke seshes with Johnny😩

Speaks Romanian fluently, refuses to speak hebrew.

Adding on to the last one, the curtis’ just say all the prayers in english during holidays so the rest of the gang can understand, and because they don’t like hebrew in general.

Wore Adidas when he was younger. No questions.

Has atleast went to Romania ONCE.

Johnny

The quiet, but defensive hufflepuff.

If people ask him to say something in either spanish or thai, he’ll just say a bad word to embarrass them.

Has a better relationship with his dad than his mom (not canon)

Him and dally are like this🤞🏽no crosses count.

ALWAYS SINGS RANDOM THAI SONGS OUTTA NO WHERE

Theres this weird thing that he has (i have it too) where he could show his talents to a audience of people, but not in front of a small group.

So i can see him kind of spacing out while trying to sing for the gang.

Knows Muay Thai, so thats very useful to him for fighting socs.

Smokes pot just because.

Sodapop

Is constantly called “Soda-bop” from socs, and even Steve.

Takes band or orchestra

Takes Jewish cantor classes every Thursday bc he cant do it on Shabbat.

He always won first place in a cantor competition, and people even started hiring him for weddings.

Can also speak romanian, but speaks Hebrew for his classes.

People unfortunately are prejudice against him for being jewish, so he lies and says he’s atheist. He regrets it a lot.

His Bar Mitzvah was very festive, and he was lifted up on a chair😀

Girls and guys come up to him constantly for either beauty tips or falling in love with him.

He’s a gryffindor. Constantly boasts about it.

Says “what the sheol” on a daily basis.

Steve

Contrary to popular belief, he can actually cook.

He’s very bitchy when it comes to cars

He loves them more than Soda

Was the type to have car posters in his room as a kid

He wasn’t available on Fridays because of Jummah (iykyk)

Hides his relationship with Soda from his parents and sister

Not really family oriented (toxic parents)

Would be in band or orchestra in school

Hes a big back when it comes to Bastani and Ghormasabzi (IM MAKING GHORMASABZI)

His gay awakening was Soda. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Has the best comebacks for haters

Calls sunglasses Hater-Blockers😭

Almost fought Pony at school one time and Soda had to stop them

Two Bit

He’s the type to eat paint chippings and get Lead Poisoning as a kid.

People dont believe hes 🇧🇷🇨🇺

Only makes food from a air fryer because he’s not trusted with a stove

Almost burned his house down when trying to re-fry french fries from mcdonald’s(you probably know the consequences).

Plays accordion and lets his sister sing with him for funsies

But plays trombone in band so he can be with Steve

The gang was calling him Two-Bitch, but pony was on his horse period and called him No-Bitch for fun. Two Bit swore it was on sight while the rest of the gang was laughing.

Has SOME rizz, but doesnt like to use it to his potential.

Pranks all of Tulsa by becoming a elf and running around scaring kids.

Drinks and smuggles Cuban cigars and Brazilian beers in the curtis house. Darry banned him from the house for a week.

Dallas

The original super senior

WHERE MY HUG AT???

Lemme take you to ur class😭

He has a cat name Mau Mau Winston the First and he wont let the gang touch her.

Thats his daughter dont fw her😡

He would let that cat do anything😭

FRAGILE MASCULINITY.

He’s actually a good dancer, HE GOT LIQUID HIPS.

Actually hates his dad with a burning passion (besides P-philes) and loves his mom. Hes a mamas boy.

Since hes also arab, I can see him cussing out the gang in arabic.

Watches Kai Cenat on the daily

🟧⬛️⭐️ obsessed

Was called Buster Cherry in New York

Tries to get people into fights for fun.

Darry

Literal husband material

Would literally be the best dad in the world.

Also speaks both Romanian and Hebrew fluently.

He planned Soda’s Bar Mitzvah and they have pictures of EVERYTHING.

Is first generation American when he moved from Romania in the 40’s due to the holocaust

Touches up his language skills when he has the time.

LOVES FRANK SINATRA

Him and his siblings have Hebrew names from their Bat Mitzvahs

Visits Romania with Soda and Pony in summer when they have the money.

when their parents were alive, they would speak Romanian when they were together.

Hanukkah is a very INTERESTING TIME for him- (ill make a headcanon on that)

Wanted to be a lawyer when he was younger

Dealt with racism in elementary/junior high because he was an emigrant.

A/N: This took A WEEK TO MAKE. DONT LET ME DOWN; I NEED COMMENTS, LIKES, REPOSTS,

A N Y T H I N G.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Cowboy Rescue - Part 6

Cory makes an impulsive decision to drive from Tulsa, Oklahoma, to Montana, accepting an invitation from an old boyfriend, hoping to put closure to their failed long-distance relationship. When circumstances leave her lost in the Montana countryside in the blizzard of the century, local rancher Dean Winchester comes to her rescue. He is far too tempting to resist, but is she getting herself into just another hopeless long-distance situation?

Last part - finally! Thanks so much to those of you who hung in there with me! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Rancher Dean Winchester x OC Cory Tate

Word Count: 3634

Warnings: Just smut and fluff!

Dividers by the ever-lovely @firefly-graphics​ - thank you, Daisy!

Cory smiled her thanks to the waitress, picking up her drink and looking back towards her friend across the table from her. “Thanks, I needed this, Gina.”

“I could tell. You’ve been a little down this week. We haven’t had a chance to talk about your trip to Montana – things didn’t go well with Dillon?”

Cory laughed. “Not well at all. I didn’t even see him.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Long story short, I had to take a detour, got lost in the country, a huge blizzard hit, and I got rescued from the storm by a gorgeous cowboy on horseback.”

Gina stared at her, wide-eyed. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Every word is true,” Cory laughed. “And we really hit it off. Like, really hit it off.” Gina was nodding knowingly, a grin on her face.

“So you left me in the office to handle Bruce alone, all for a cowboy,” she teased. “Exactly how gorgeous is this guy?” Cory grabbed her phone and pulled up Dean’s picture, then handed it to Gina, laughing as her friend’s jaw dropped open. “Holy shit, woman!”

“I know. I know, believe me. And I keep thinking, why did I leave Montana at all? But he really didn’t – he didn’t ask me to stay. But it all happened so fast, I think – neither of us really knew how to handle things.” She sighed. “We decided to try to make things work, but you know how much luck I have with the long-distance thing… He’s had to cancel two trips down here to see me, and it’s just hard. It feels like we’re failing before we really get started, you know?”

Gina picked up her drink and stared intently at Cory. “If that man is anywhere close to as amazing as his picture, you have to hang in there and figure it out. As your best friend, I insist on it. There is no way I can let you give up on him. I will drive you to Montana myself.” She motioned to the waitress for another round. “So – tell me everything.”

“Come in,” Cory mumbled at the soft knock on her office door, not even looking up from her work. Gina peeked around the door, and Cory finally looked up, eyebrows raised in question. “What’s up?”

“There’s a cowboy here to see you.”

Cory laughed. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific. We live in Oklahoma, there are cowboys everywhere.”

Gina shook her head, a slow smile spreading across her face, a lilt to her voice. “Not like this one.”

Cory’s smile slowly faded, her eyes widening as she rose to her feet. Gina swung the door open and stepped back, and Cory felt her heart stumble in her chest. “Dean?! Oh, my god!”

“Hey, Cory.” He stepped forward, a huge grin on his face as Cory walked into his arms, and Gina pulled the door closed behind her with a happy smile.

“I thought… I mean, I didn’t think you could get away! How…”

Dean cradled her face in his hands and kissed her silent, and she melted against him, her hands grasping at his denim jacket. He led her over to the love seat near the window and sat her down, sitting beside her and taking her hands in his. “Craziest thing. An old high school friend of mine just bought a little place down the road, and he stopped in to say hi on his way to a job interview at another ranch. I stole him right out from under them, and I don’t even feel bad about it.” Cory laughed, her eyes shining as she listened. “He and his dad used to help us out working cattle when we needed extra hands, back when my dad was still here, so he knows his way around ranching. And he’s a good guy. Can’t wait for you to meet him and his wife.”

“Yeah, someday we’ll have to…”

“The whole ‘someday’ thing? I need to talk to you about that, too. Before I lose my nerve.” Cory’s expression sobered a little, but she watched him intently, waiting for him to continue. “I’ve kicked myself ever since you left - for not asking you to stay in Montana.  I mean, we only spent a few days together, and I didn’t want you to feel like I was pushing you too hard, too fast. But… I miss you so damn much. The house just seems cold and empty without you in it, and I don’t know how I lived in it that way for so long. I really want you to come back with me, Cory. For good.”

“Dean, are you…”

“Crazy? Maybe. But I really want you to come back with me. And if you think we should slow things down, I mean, you can keep your own room if you want, I’m okay with whatever you need. Please, promise me you’ll think about it. And you don’t even have to work if you don’t want to, I mean, I’ve got plenty of money. But if you want to, it’s great, too. Or maybe your boss will let you work remotely?”

“Dean – stop talking for five seconds, please,” Cory laughed, and Dean ducked his head a little with a sheepish smile before looking into her eyes again. “Will you wait for me here? I’ll be right back.” She leaned in to kiss him softly one more time, turning as she reached the door. “There’s whiskey in that cabinet, and glasses – if you want a drink while you wait.”

She was back before he finished a drink, coming back into her office with a huge smile on her face, and Dean couldn’t help but return it. “So – what are we smiling about?”

Cory sat down next to him, taking his drink from his hand and finishing it in one gulp. “Well – I guess I’m moving to Montana.”

Dean stared at her silently for a moment. “Seriously? You’re really coming back with me?”

She nodded, happy tears in her eyes. “If you really want me…” Before she could finish, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her until they broke apart in need of air.

“I really want you. I want you with me, in Montana. Everything else will work itself out.”

Late in the evening three days later, they arrived back at the ranch in Dean’s pickup, a small trailer behind with Cory’s belongings. She hadn’t brought much, just clothes and personal items, leaving everything else in her condo, which she planned to sell as furnished. She had left the keys with Gina to keep an eye on things, or to show to prospective buyers.

It didn’t take them long to unload the boxes, leaving them stacked to be unpacked later. Cory collapsed on the couch as Dean started a fire in the fireplace, then joined her, one arm around her shoulders. She snuggled up against him with a happy sigh, giving him a squeeze as he spoke. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

“Thank you. It really does feel like home. It has from the beginning.” She smiled up at him and closed her eyes as he kissed her softly. Then she sat up straight and turned to face him, her expression more serious. “By the way, I’ve been thinking about it – and I do think I would like to keep my own room.”

The light dimmed in Dean’s eyes as he tried to control his expression. “Oh. Okay, whatever you need.”

She couldn’t control the quirk of a smile on her lips as she moved to straddle his lap. “For my office.”

Dean dropped his head to the back of the couch with a relieved sigh. “That was just mean.” Cory giggled as she bent to kiss his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, then his lips, raising her head to look into his eyes.

“It was, I’m sorry – I just couldn’t resist. Forgive me?”

He let out an offended huff, refusing to look at her in pretended offense, and she giggled again. “How about if I show you how sorry I am?”

“I don’t know…” he teased back, and she bent to place gentle, lingering kisses on his throat. Her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt as she moved down, tasting each newly exposed patch of skin, a little thrill moving through her at the sound of his muffled groan.

When she had his shirt fully undone, she pushed it open, dipping down to nibble at each nipple, sliding down until she was on the floor between his knees, her hands moving to his belt buckle as his muscles contracted at her touch. He moaned as she kissed along his waist, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zipper down. She gave a little nip to his belly button, looking up at his blissful expression. “Lift up a little for me,” she said, slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and tugging them and his jeans down, working them off and tossing them aside, his erection standing hard and proud against his abs.

She settled herself between his legs again, and Dean cleared his throat, his breathing quickening with his arousal. He stared down at her as she stripped her sweatshirt off over her head, and then reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. He let out a low groan as she took it off and dropped it beside her, then pulled in a hissing breath as she put her hand to his cock, bringing it to her lips.

She took the tip into her mouth, laving it with her tongue as she suckled gently, watching Dean’s hand clutch desperately at the arm of the sofa. He swore under his breath as she pulled off, bending to lick a path from root to tip, one hand massaging at his balls as she took him in again as far as she could. She glanced up at him, his head thrown back and his teeth clenched as he fought the urge to push in deeper. She began to move, up and down, working her tongue over him, taking him deeper with each bob of her head until he was breaching her throat. She fought her gag reflex for a moment, then took him in fully, her throat working around him, and he let out a moan that made her reach a hand between her own thighs.

Dean’s hips were rising to meet her now, in spite of his efforts to hold still, and she pulled off him, her voice a little raspy as she spoke. “Just let go, baby, it’s okay.”

“I don’t wanna…” he began, but she shook her head.

“You’re not gonna hurt me. I want it. I want all of you.” She licked the drop of precum from his slit before taking him in completely, sucking hard and breaking what was left of his resistance. She relaxed and let him fuck into her willing mouth and throat, shoving one hand down the front of her jeans to rub her aching clit and bracing her other hand on the straining muscle of his thigh.

“Oh, fu… uuuuck, fuckfuckFUCK,” he finally forced out, filling her mouth and throat with his release.  She swallowed as much as she could, gentling the suction on his pulsing cock as he emptied himself, his legs shaking a little as he slowed, then finally stopped. He moved his hand from the couch to tangle his fingers in her hair as she lovingly cleaned him off, pulling her hand free from her pants with a shudder and reaching for her sweatshirt to wipe off her face.

She leaned up, resting her face against his torso, smiling as he groaned at the sensation of her soft breasts pressed against his sensitive cock. “So, do you forgive me now?” she teased, and he stroked her hair, still unwilling to move any further.

“For anything you’ve ever done or ever will do,” he answered, and Cory laughed.

“Careful, I might hold you to that.”

“How about you come up here?” She pressed a kiss to his skin and straightened up, then rose to her feet. Dean hooked a finger into her belt loop, pulling her in closer, then working the button and zipper open on her jeans. “And how about you take those off?”

She shimmied out of the rest of her clothes, letting Dean pull her up onto his lap. He held her close with one arm, the other hand kneading gently at her breast as he kissed her hungrily. She shivered beneath his touch as he toyed with her nipple, and he parted from her lips long enough to lay her back on the couch, settling himself between her legs and bending to tongue the other nipple into his mouth. He teased at her until she whined, arching up a little, searching for something more to ease the throbbing between her thighs. He looked into her eyes as he raised himself up, moving to his knees on the floor and nuzzling his face into the crease of her thigh. She trembled as he kissed her there, then moved his way down to taste her before flicking his tongue over her clit.

She jerked with a soft cry, her hips rising to meet him as a faint growl rumbled from his throat. He speared his tongue inside her, humming in approval at her flavor before working two fingers inside to rub at her sweet spot. She slid her fingers through his hair, grabbing to hold him close as he sucked her clit into his mouth, and she swore, her hips moving to the rhythm of his fingers vigorously fucking into her. “Jesus, Dean…”

His cock was twitching, getting harder by the second at the symphony of sounds she was making, the feel of her cunt clutching at his fingers, the taste of her on his tongue. She was close, so close, beginning to beg now, and he reached up to pinch at her nipple, sending her to the edge with a strangled cry. Before she could completely reach her peak, he stopped, moving back up between her thighs, driving his cock home with one desperate thrust.

She let out a hoarse scream as Dean fucked her hard and deep, her cunt spasming around him and spurring him on. He pounded into her, his heart hammering, until he let out a shout as he came, holding himself as deep inside her as he could manage, his vision darkening a little around the edges as he finally dropped down on top of her shuddering form. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as they both fought for breath, their chests heaving against each other.

A few minutes later Dean pushed himself up on one elbow, bending to place soft, lingering kisses on Cory’s lips. “I have this problem. I can’t seem to kiss you enough,” he teased, feeling her lips curve against his as she smiled.

“That is a problem. We’ll have to work on that.” She looked into his eyes, searching them and finding the same warmth and contentment she was feeling. “I hate to say this, but we should move. We’re gonna ruin the couch.”

He bent to kiss her again. “Worth it. And besides, there’s a blanket under us.”

“Oh, I didn’t even…” She turned her head a little to look, and suddenly burst into giggles.

“What?” She was trying to speak, but another bout of giggling came out instead. “What?!”

Cory wiped at her eyes, pointing at the other end of the couch. “We both still have our socks on!” And then she was off again, and Dean couldn’t help but join in.

“What, like that’s not sexy?”

“Oh, very.” She finally started to calm down, a little whining laugh or two forcing their way from her lips. “I’m sorry, I’m just so very tired.”

Dean grinned down at her affectionately, kissing her one more time. “Well, sexy, maybe we should go clean up a little and go to bed.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

He rose to his feet with a little groan, then reached for her hand to help her up. She let her hand rest in his as they walked in their sexy stocking feet to the bedroom, Cory still smothering an occasional giggle on the way.

About ten years farther down the road…

Dean parked the pickup in front of the house and headed for the steps, a couple bags of groceries in each hand. He was halfway up when he heard his wife’s voice, loud and clear, from the back yard. “John Travis Winchester!”

“Oh, shit.” He deposited the bags on the porch and headed around the side of the house to see what his oldest son had gotten into this time. That boy was going to give his mama gray hair fast at the rate he was going. Only 8 years old, but he was very creative at finding mischief to get into on an almost daily basis.

Cory was standing at the back of the house, hands on her hips, looking up at the huge oak in their back yard. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she continued, 3-year-old Gracie letting go of her leg to run towards Dean.

“Daddy!” He scooped her up in one arm and went to stand next to his wife, putting the other arm around her shoulders.

“What’s happening here?” he asked, giving her a squeeze.

“Well, our son decided it would be a good idea to get into his daddy’s tools and saw a branch out of your great-grandpa’s tree. I was about to try and find out why.”

J.T. was about five feet off the ground, perched on a branch, a small hand saw partly bitten into a smaller branch next to him. One slim branch lay underneath the tree, and his 6-year-old little brother, Hunter, stepped forward, speaking up.

“J.T. and me wanted to build a fort, but we didn’t have any wood.”

“That right, J.T.?” Dean asked, and the boy nodded, looking utterly miserable.

“Mama, our cookies!” Gracie piped up, and Cory took her from Dean’s grasp.

“I know, baby girl. We’ll finish them in a minute.”

Dean bent to kiss Cory’s head. “Why don’t you and Gracie go on and finish your cookies, babe. I’ll have a talk with the boys.”

She turned to look up at him, Gracie on one hip. “That child is gonna be the death of me someday,” she said quietly, a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth, and Dean chuckled.

“Go ahead, honey, I’ve got this.” She stretched up to kiss him, heading back into the house with her daughter.

A little while later, Cory sat on the couch, her laptop in front of her as Gracie played on the living room floor. The boys came bursting through the front door, Dean behind them, and he stood nearby as they both ran up to their mother.

She sat her laptop on the table and turned to accept a strangling hug from Hunter. “We’re sorry, mama,” he said, and she gave him a squeeze, then wrapped J.T. in a hug as he followed suit. He backed away, his lip quivering a little, and Cory patted the couch beside her.

“Come here, boy child,” she smiled, and he climbed up beside her, letting her tuck him under her arm. “So, what did you learn today? What did Daddy say?”

He took a breath and launched into a recitation, and Cory forced herself not to smile. “He said some of the tools are dangerous, and we could get hurt, and if we want to use something we have to talk to him or you and let somebody help us and show us how to use ‘em, and he said his great-grandpa planted that tree a long, long time ago and it’s a special family tree. And he’s gonna call the station man,” she looked up at Dean in confusion, and he grinned.

“Extension agent.”

Cory smiled and nodded, looking back to J.T. “And he’s gonna tell us if the tree is hurt and how to fix it, and also if me and Hunter want to build a fort he’ll help us and find us some wood.”

She nodded and hugged him. “I love you, you know.”

“Love you too, mama. I’m really sorry I hurt the tree.”

Cory took his little face in her hands. “You are forgiven, sweet boy. Now – why don’t you go in the kitchen and get yourself a cookie?”

His eyes lit up and he was off the couch in a flash. “Me too, mama?” Hunter piped up, and she laughed.

“Of course, you, too! After one more hug.” She sent them on their way, followed by their sister, shaking her head at their energy. Dean plopped down beside her, dropping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

“You’re a great dad, you know that?” she smiled up at him, and he kissed her.

“You’re pretty great yourself, you know.”

Hunter peeked around the kitchen doorway. “Can we have two cookies?”

Cory laughed. “Yes, you can have two cookies.”

“So…” Dean started, and she looked up at him, waiting. “How about we let these monsters have a movie night tonight and put them to bed early.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, his voice rumbling in her ear. “Then we can go to bed and fool around.”

She turned to kiss him, happily in awe of the way he still looked at her like she was everything, and how he could still make her blood race with a simple touch or kiss. “That is the best offer I’ve had all day, baby.”

Tags for my lovelies:  @saenalife​    @deanscarlett​    @jensensgotyoudean​    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis​    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​    @geeklibrarian​    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​     @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan    @mrswhozeewhatsis​    @littlegreenplasticsoldier​    @sleep-silent-angel​    @darcia22​    @winchesterprincessbride​    @ellen-reincarnated1967​    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess​      @deanslittleangel2y5​    @melanie451​        @spectaculacular-sammy​     @bookchic20​    @jodyri​    @selma-jean-blog​           @savingapplepie-eatingthings​    @kittenofdoomage​    @masked-maiden42​    @lean-mean-deanwinchester​    @ericuhlorain​    @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester​    @typicalweirdbookworm​          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit​    @youtoldalie​    @tanithlowisabamf-blog​    @deandoesthingstome​    @jxackles​    @nerdwholikesword​    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic​    @kreweofimp​  @gabavaldman​    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog​    @darkx143​    @disassociativedogma​    @ioanashalala​    @jencharlan​    @deansthirstblog​     @dorky-and-i-know-it​    @mischief-maker1​    @winchestersandwordprocessors​    @percussiongirl2017​    @bringmesomepie56​   @akshi8278​    @torn-and-frayed​    @sandlee44​   @wingedcatninja​  @evansrogerskitten​   @emoryhemsworth​  @peaceinourtime82​  @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​  @sarcasmqueen74​   @maliburenee      @mrsjenniferwinchester​   @yeehawbitchs​   @emily-winchester​  @hobby27​

[staceysoleil]

Fun Near Tulsa - Last Days of September

Squeeze in the Last of Warm Tulsa Days

We’re teetering on the edge of fall, and while pumpkin spice season is creeping up (don’t worry, we’re already stocked up), let’s not rush things. After all, we still have a few warm, sunny days left to squeeze out every drop of summer-like fun in and around Tulsa. Whether you’re looking to get outdoors, explore the arts, or simply take a little road trip to a nearby town, there are plenty of ways to enjoy the end of the season before the cool breezes blow in and the leaves start to fall.

So, here’s your guide to the best things to do near Tulsa for end-of-summer fun. Grab your sunscreen, throw on those shades, and let’s make the most of these last summer-like moments.

Take a Day Trip to Keystone Lake

You don’t have to drive far from Tulsa to experience a perfect end-of-summer day by the water. Just about 20 minutes west of Tulsa, Keystone Lake is the ultimate spot for boating, fishing, or just hanging out on the shore with your toes in the sand. This massive reservoir has plenty of beaches, marinas, and picnic spots that make it perfect for a low-key day outdoors.

What to Do: Rent a pontoon from Keyport Marina, grab some snacks, and spend the afternoon lazily drifting along the lake. Or, if you’re feeling a little more active, give wakeboarding or paddleboarding a try (or at least pretend like you’re going to).

Local Tip: Don’t forget to stop by Harbor House Café for a post-lake burger or some fresh catfish. It’s the perfect spot to refuel after a day in the sun.

Explore the Tulsa Arts District for a Culture Fix

If you’re more of an art-and-urban-wanderer than a nature enthusiast, the Tulsa Arts District is calling your name. As the temps start to cool just a touch (we can hope), it’s the perfect time to stroll through the district’s galleries, grab a craft cocktail, and soak in the creative energy before the buzz of fall events take over.

What to Do: Start your day at Philbrook Museum, where contemporary art blends seamlessly with Tulsa’s rich history. Next, wander over to Guthrie Green for a relaxing afternoon with live music or a yoga class. The park often has food trucks and pop-up vendors, so you can snack while you people-watch.

Local Tip: End the day with a cocktail at The Tavern—a Tulsa Arts District favorite. Their “Problem Solver” is basically an art form.

Camp or Hike at Redbud Valley Nature Preserve

If the thought of fall has you dreaming about cool nights and camping under the stars, then make a quick drive to Redbud Valley Nature Preserve, just 30 minutes from Tulsa. The end of summer is the perfect time to hike the trails, explore the limestone cliffs, and marvel at the views before the trees start turning.

What to Do: The main trail at Redbud is a loop, making it perfect for a light, 2-hour hike. You’ll wind through shady trees, rocky outcrops, and open fields that feel like you’re miles away from civilization. Keep your eyes peeled for wildlife—this area is known for deer, foxes, and even armadillos (yep, they’re out there).

After your hike, pack up for a night of camping at Osage Hills State Park, where the campsites are clean and quiet. Plus, nothing says end-of-summer like roasting marshmallows by the campfire.

Local Tip: Redbud Valley has some challenging terrain, so pack proper shoes and a camera because the views are worth snapping. Also, it’s closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so plan accordingly.

Spend a Lazy Day at The Gathering Place

If you’ve lived in Tulsa for more than five minutes, you already know that The Gathering Place is a must-visit. But if you haven’t spent a lazy, end-of-summer afternoon there yet, you’re missing out on one of Tulsa’s crown jewels. This isn’t just any park—it’s a 100-acre wonderland of activities, food trucks, and yes, plenty of places to simply relax and soak in the final rays of summer.

What to Do: Start by grabbing a coffee at Redbud Cafe (their iced drinks are lifesavers in the heat) and take a walk around the QuikTrip Great Lawn, which is perfect for a quick picnic or nap under the trees. If you’ve got kids (or if you’re just a kid at heart), the Williams Lodge has a variety of interactive water features that are perfect for cooling off.

For those who want to keep moving, rent a paddleboat and take a spin around Peggy's Pond, or hit up the skate park for some late-summer adrenaline.

Local Tip: Weekdays are quieter than weekends, but if you go on a Saturday, make sure to check their event calendar—there’s always something going on, from live music to family-friendly festivals.

Float Down the Illinois River

Located just over an hour east of Tulsa, the Illinois River is the perfect place for a lazy river float to soak in the last bit of summer heat. Grab a few friends, rent some tubes, and float your way through scenic landscapes that will make you feel like you're a world away from city life.

What to Do: Most people float for 4-6 hours, which is just the right amount of time to take in the scenery, snack on some trail mix, and maybe even sneak in a nap on the water. Companies like Arrowhead Resort offer float rentals, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. Bring sunscreen, a cooler with drinks (non-alcoholic, of course), and prepare for ultimate relaxation.

Local Tip: If tubing isn’t your thing, you can always rent a kayak or canoe and paddle your way down the river. Just make sure to book your float in advance—it’s a popular activity, especially on the weekends.

Catch an Outdoor Concert at Guthrie Green

The end of summer brings cooler evenings, and there’s no better way to enjoy the sunset than with live music. Guthrie Green, located in Tulsa’s Arts District, regularly hosts outdoor concerts and performances that are perfect for those who want to soak up the end-of-summer energy.

What to Do: Bring a blanket, grab some food from the rotating lineup of food trucks, and settle in for an evening of tunes. There’s usually something for every taste—from indie bands to jazz ensembles—so no matter your music preference, you’ll find a vibe that fits.

Local Tip: Check out their Sunday Salsa series in partnership with Tulsa Remote for a mix of local and regional talent. The shows are free, and you’ll be surrounded by people who are just as excited to dance in the warm summer air.

Head to Downtown Bartlesville for a Quick Getaway

If you’ve got the itch for a mini road trip, take a scenic drive north to Bartlesville—just over an hour from Tulsa. This charming little town is known for its art-deco architecture, unique museums, and a surprising amount of history for a town its size.

What to Do: Stop by the Price Tower, designed by the legendary Frank Lloyd Wright, and take a tour to learn more about the building’s fascinating history. Next, check out Woolaroc Museum & Wildlife Preserve, where you can experience both art and nature. It’s an eclectic mix of Native American artifacts, Western art, and a sprawling outdoor wildlife preserve filled with buffalo, elk, and longhorn cattle.

Local Tip: Bartlesville is also home to some great mom-and-pop diners—stop by Dink’s Pit BBQ for some legit barbecue before heading back to Tulsa.

The Bottom Line: Make the Most of the Remaining Hot Days in & Around Tulsa

Just because summer is winding down doesn’t mean the fun has to stop. Whether you’re soaking up some sun at Keystone Lake, floating down the Illinois River, or catching a live concert at Guthrie Green, there are plenty of ways to squeeze out those last bits of summer before fall arrives.

So, pack your bags (or your cooler), grab some friends, and make these final days of summer count. After all, those pumpkin spice lattes can wait just a little longer.

[greencountrywater]

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