#best places to work out in Tulsa

[staceysoleil]

Where to Workout in Tulsa

Tips to Rebuild Muscle & Stay Active if you’re 40+ in Tulsa, OK

Let’s be honest—getting fit in midlife can feel a little daunting. Gone are the days when we could skip a couple of workouts and bounce back after one good session at the gym. But here’s the truth: it’s never too late to rebuild strength, boost our energy, and feel our absolute best!

If you’ve noticed a little muscle mass loss creeping in over the years (trust…we’re right there with you!), we’ve got some good news. There are SO many ways to get back in shape and stay strong in town without feeling overwhelmed. And the best part? Tulsa has a ton of amazing fitness spots and activities to help us reach our goals.

Sound good? Here’s how you can start your fitness journey and fall in love with moving your body all over again.

Get Strong at Planet Fitness

If you're looking for a no-frills gym that’s perfect for rebuilding strength, Planet Fitness on Admiral in Tulsa is a great option. Known for being affordable and judgment-free, Planet Fitness offers all the equipment you need for strength training—whether you prefer using free weights, machines, or just focusing on bodyweight exercises. They also offer personal training sessions to help you create a fitness plan tailored to your goals.

One of the best things about Planet Fitness? It’s open 24/7, so you can fit in a workout whenever it works for you—no excuses! Plus, it’s a welcoming space for people of all fitness levels, so you can feel confident no matter where you’re starting.

Bonus: Strength training helps boost your metabolism and bone density, which is huge for long-term health!

Core Strength and Flexibility at Club Pilates Midtown Tulsa

If you’re looking for a workout that improves core strength, flexibility, and balance, Club Pilates Midtown Tulsa is your go-to. They offer a variety of Pilates classes, from beginner to advanced, all designed to help you build a stronger, leaner body. Pilates is especially beneficial for improving posture and preventing injuries, making it an ideal choice for midlife fitness.

Their Reformer Pilates classes are an excellent way to strengthen muscles without putting too much strain on your joints. And with certified instructors guiding you, you’ll leave each class feeling more aligned and in control of your body.

Pilates is perfect for anyone looking to tone muscles, improve mobility, and maintain flexibility as we age—plus, it’s a fun way to stay active!

Group Fitness Fun at Koda CrossFit Tulsa

If you’re searching for a group fitness experience that challenges you and keeps you motivated, look no further than Koda CrossFit Tulsa. CrossFit is known for its high-intensity, functional workouts that combine strength training, cardio, and mobility exercises, and Koda CrossFit does it with a community-focused approach. Whether you're a seasoned athlete or just starting your fitness journey, Koda's supportive coaches will help tailor the workouts to your needs and push you toward your personal best.

The energy and camaraderie at Koda CrossFit are contagious—you'll find yourself not only improving physically but also connecting with like-minded individuals who are just as committed to fitness as you are. It’s more than just a workout—it’s a team effort that helps you stay accountable and have fun along the way!

Take It Outdoors at River Parks Trail

When the gym isn’t calling your name, sometimes you just need to take your workout outdoors. Tulsa River Parks Trail offers a fantastic 9.5-mile trail perfect for walking, jogging, biking, or even skating along the Arkansas River. This paved, multi-use trail is a favorite among locals for its scenic river views, easy access, and well-maintained paths.

Whether you want a light stroll or an intense bike ride, the trail is mostly flat, making it accessible for all fitness levels. Along the way, you’ll encounter beautiful park spaces, sculptures, and occasional wildlife, giving you plenty to enjoy while getting in your workout. The route is also connected to several other trails, giving you the option to extend your workout if you're feeling adventurous.

Pro Tip: The trail can get busy, especially on weekends, so early mornings or weekdays are ideal for a quieter, more peaceful experience. And don’t forget to bring water—Oklahoma heat is no joke!

Dance Your Way to Fitness with Zumba Instructor Ariane Betancourt

If you want to have a blast while getting fit, join a Zumba class with Ariane Betancourt. Set to infectious Latin and international rhythms, Ariane’s Zumba classes will have you dancing your way to better fitness. Whether you’re a complete beginner or a Zumba enthusiast, her high-energy sessions make working out feel like a party.

Zumba is perfect for midlife fitness because it’s low-impact but still gets your heart pumping and your body moving. You’ll burn calories, improve cardiovascular health, and leave class feeling energized and smiling!

Check out Ariane’s Zumba classes and get ready to dance your way to fitness in a fun, supportive environment! Learn more about Ariane Betancourt’s classes here.

The Bottom Line…Keep On Moving!

The most important part of getting fit in midlife is consistency. It doesn’t matter if you’re hitting the gym, doing Pilates, or dancing your heart out in a Zumba class—as long as you’re moving your body regularly, you’re on the right track. The key is to find workouts that make you feel good and fit seamlessly into your lifestyle.

Tulsa is full of amazing fitness options that make it easy to stay active, rebuild muscle, and enjoy the journey toward feeling your best self. So grab your sneakers (or your Zumba shoes) and get ready to have fun while getting fit! Hey, maybe we’ll run into along the way!

[winstonsns]

the gang with a soc!reader

authors note: sorry the last one was kind of all over the place. i tend to ramble when i write so ill try to stay more on topic this time. in this preference, you and the characters will already be a couple :3 im also wondering if people are clicking the hashtags then they see my posts?? so if that’s what’s happening and you can see my posts when you click the hashtags please tell me because i have no idea if it’s working LMAO

includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.0k

warnings: mild cussing, mentions of fighting/getting jumped

PONYBOY CURTIS

you both are academic BEASTS so you’re somewhat rivals and trying to get to the top of the class

but you’re still together, it’s a healthy relationship

most of the time, you’ll actually walk him home from wherever you are since it’s safe for you to walk home on your own, but since he’s a greaser it’s not safe for him

when you met the gang they taught you how to fight in case some greasers or even some socs tried to fight you

by walking him home, you’ve actually prevented him from getting beat up

you like to take him out to get food or something he wants when he gets a good grade since he gets happy when they’re high

sometimes you’ll get lower grades than him and you two will study together, or reversed

you’ll get him a new book every time he finishes another one, by the end of the year he has a new shelf just filled with books you’ve given him

you occasionally read him to sleep when he’s having a hard time, or again reversed

he falls asleep pretty quickly when you do this and he really appreciates it

you always sit together during assemblies and choose to be each others partner in the classes you have together

if you don’t decide to do track one year you’ll go to his meets, and after you always take him out to eat since you’re proud

if he’s extra tired then he’ll ask to go home so you will

you learned how to cook so he can have big nice meals, along with baking chocolate cake when soda and darry aren’t there to make it

pony thinks you make it better than darry but will never tell him that

he really loves spending time with you and feels like you’re the first person besides johnny to really understand him

you made him think about socs in a different way too, in a good way

yall are just humans doing what you know best, some in different environments and had different parents with different parenting styles

you like to bring him to the best places in tulsa to watch the sunsets

you also get the best polaroids of the sunsets and the colors are so beautiful

JOHNNY CADE

as soon as he told the gang that he was dating someone they were excited for him, then they found out you were a soc

dally told him to break up with you without even knowing you, johnny told him to give you a chance

when johnny invited you to the curtis house to meet his friends, you brought presents for all of them since you wanted to make a good impression

you had your ways about finding what they like and don’t like

they immediately took a liking to you when you gave them presents and a kiss on johnnys cheek

you’d patch him up and give him bandaids to take home after getting beat up by socs or his parents

sometimes you’d give him money and he would use that money to get you something you’ve been wanting for a while

he’s always so thankful for everything you do for him and everything you give him

since your parents don’t really care about the differences between greasers and socs, they let johnny stay over since they know things are rough at home

sometimes they’ll take you and him out for dinner with them and you think it’s so cute

he was nervous your parents wouldn’t like him since most of the socs parents would think he’s gross

he’s always proud of you for naturally getting good grades and seeing the smile on your face when you get your report card

sometimes when he’s upset you two will cuddle in your bed or you’ll drive him to a restaurant or fast food place

he always feels bad about spending your money but you tell him not to feel bad about it since you have more

DARRY CURTIS

things got more financially stable when you came into his life

you’d help him pay groceries and the bills if he was struggling, you also helped around the house

sometimes he’ll wake up to the smell of bacon, waffles, eggs, etc and suddenly its like he doesn’t have to be the responsible one 24/7

having you in his life has improved everything, and his brothers are so thankful to have you there too

you’re like a mother to them and they’re comfortable enough to open up to you

sometimes you’ll ask him out on cute little dates randomly just so he can get a break of hard work

he’ll take the day off and get all dressed up since you told him you were taking him to a really fancy restaurant

occasionally you’ll get your nails done just for your dates and he always notices

you’ll ask him “which color is better” and he’ll say “aren’t they the same?” then you have to explain to him that one is darker than the other

he still doesn’t see the difference but chooses one anyway since he likes to see you happy

he’s literally so in love with you and how you’ll do romantic and domestic things for him

you’re so beautiful and perfect in his eyes, and sometimes he’ll stare at you and his brothers will tease him

he really loves being around you and having you by his side

you also helped him become calmer, that pony and soda have their own problems and darry yelling at them probably just makes them scared

he starts to actually communicate with them and you’ll give him gifts for completing or succeeding because why not

he’s always like “hon, you didn’t have to get me this…” but you can see he’s happy with whatever you give him

he just loves you so much and his brothers love you too but obviously not romantically

SODAPOP CURTIS

people actually think the both of you are socs, i mean they’re half right

they think soda is a soc since he’s so handsome and think you’re a soc because of your mannerisms and how you’re very beautiful

you’ll always visit him at the DX just to hang out with him

your parents love him and how he treats you so they also let him stay over at your house

sometimes when it’s sodas turn to get groceries from the store, you’ll go along with him

he just wants to be around you whenever he can

you’ll offer to pay for the groceries plus stuff he doesn’t need but instead wants

once he got a pimple and he freaked the fuck out

you bought him some cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen and pimple patches

you taught him how to use them and when, and in which order to use them in

his pimple went away in a few days

since you’re so smart and get good grades, you’ll help pony with his homework sometimes

soda will stare at you helping him from far away, he thinks it’s adorable that you two are bonding

when the two of you are in your room, you’ll play frank sinatra and the little dippers while having a home-date with sweets :3

you two have so much fun and he even opens up to you about his problems

you offer to get him a therapist but he says it’s that bad, you tell him to talk to you if he wants to talk about it again

he legit treats you like a princess and you love it

yall are the most attractive couple EVER no one can tell if they wanna be you or be with you

DALLAS WINSTON

when he realized he liked you he knew he had to protect you with his life

he needed a break from loud and annoying girls, then he found you

you could get quiet at times and you weren’t constantly screaming and acting like an annoying 12 year old boy

you got him to steal less since you could pay for things on your own

he didn’t really listen and still stole money from other people so he could get you things

whenever he got put in prison you could always bail him out due to the money you have

if he had to serve time then you’d give him money so he could spend it and get necessities

you’ll also make diy crafts for him on your guys anniversary and his birthday

he brings you to meetups with the gang, and they love you being there with him

you spoil him rotten and he loves it

makes him feel like a princess, weirdly enough

he’ll steal money to spoil you too, pays for your nails sometimes

you told him you wanted specific flowers once and he got you flowers sometime the next week, he acted nonchalant about it but he loved the happy look on your face

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

sometimes you’re quiet but he always finds a way to bring you to tears after laughing so hard

he’s literally the funniest person you’ve ever met

he never really expected a soc to get so loud since they were normally reserved and didn’t talk to many people

anyway you brought him to fucking disneyland once and he LOVED it

you booked a hotel and everything so yall saw mickey mouse

two-bit kinda laughed at him but he seemed happy so he didn’t care

he loves traveling with you and brags about it to the gang all the time

they say it’s cool then act like they don’t care but they’re kinda jealous he gets all that stuff

they’re happy for him though

sometimes you’ll get him little mickey figurines and he’ll put them on his nightstand, sometimes even carry it with him if it’s a keychain

he never would’ve expected a soc to be so nice to someone like him

he’s really glad that you love him and you show it

STEVE RANDLE

before you two started dating he tried to avoid you at all costs

he kinda thought you’d beat up him and his friends so he just stayed away from you

anyway when you guys started dating you’d drive him to the DX

you’d give him tips just for fun even if you didn’t buy anything from him

you’d buy him all sorts of little trinkets and such just so he’d have something to mess around with

i don’t have a lot of knowledge on him bro pls bear with me LMAO

he’s almost always with soda so you kind of became his best friend naturally

you’ll buy steve food on his breaks and drive him to restaurants or fast food places and you’ll eat on a bench or in a field together

you talk about some shit that happened at work while he listens

he’ll occasionally get you some food since he knows you like sweets

then you repay him with something he’s wanted for a while that he’s been asking for

whether it’s a book or food or a trinket idk

he loves you so much and is glad soda gets along with you so well

sorry this one’s shorter! i’ll try to make the preference longer next time. i’m gonna try to post at least twice per week but if im feeling good ill try to post more 💗 thank you for reading!

[boysborntodie]

Details from The Outsiders you may have forgotten or missed

-Cherry doesn't appear after the hearing (her not waving Ponyboy is just a movie thing)

-Ponyboy fucking hates people with green eyes so bad and gets pissed when someone points out he also has green eyes

-Steve always combs his hair into complicated swirls

-The Greasers always play football together

-Soda is one of the only Greasers who never gets drunk

-He also doesn't smoke unless something is bothering him or he wants to look tuff

-Darry, on the other hand, never smokes because it would affect his perfect body which he is very proud of

-Darry is also proud of being smart and sensible

-Ponyboy is the heaviest smoker out of the Curtis family

-Johnny started smoking at 9 and Steve at 11

-Johnny would've run away from Tulsa if it weren't for the gang

-Soda gives killer massages

-Ponyboy's razor wasn't working while he had to dissect a frog so he just took out his knife

-Darry goes skiing with some of his old friends sometimes

-Cherry and Marcia barrel race often and are pretty good at it

-Soda used to ride in rodeos but after breaking a ligament, his dad made him quit

-Sometimes Soda and Steve let Ponyboy help them fix the cars at the DX

-Johnny is the most law-abiding of the gang, and didn't even carry a knife until the Socs jumped him

-Cherry has an older brother

-Ponyboy used to have a yeller cur dog

-Johnny's scar his from his temple to his cheekbone (it's huge and also hard to look at)

-Two-Bit is great at doing impressions

-Two-Bit often raises one eyebrow, and the gang associate the gesture with him

-Dally and the Curtis mother got along well before she died

-Ponyboy is a scarily good liar

-Ponyboy notes that while he sees Johnny as a scared puppy, he actually looks rather hardened and cold to a stranger

-Johnny's skin is lighter under his bangs

-When at the church, Johnny puts his jean jacket over Ponyboy while he went out to get groceries

-Steve, Dally and Two-Bit wouldn't have thought of buying soap at a grocery store

-Ponyboy calls himself a Pepsi addict

-Dally hardly ever cuts his hair

-Johnny loves drag races

-The Curtis Dad took the brothers out hunting often in the country

-Ponyboy has the best aim but hates shooting

-Dally heard of the old church from a cousin

-Ponyboy is the youngest person on the track team but still one of the fastest

-Darry was the closest to their dad

-Steve once called Darry 'all brawn ans no brains' which made Darry made because it reminded him of the fact he didn't go to college

-Darry will suddenly pick up a random Greasers and swings them around

-The Curtis Dad used to call Soda 'Pepsi-Cola'

-The Shepard gang and the Curtis gang have fought seriously on at least on occasion (but it's nothing compared to the rumble)

-The Curtis brothers stayed at the hospital all night for Johnny and Dally until a doctor forced them to leave

-Johnny has a clean police record

-Ponyboy chews his fingernails when nervous

-Johnny often sleeps at Two-Bit's house

-The Curtis brothers all have huge appetites

-Darry always checks Ponyboy's Math homework for mistakes

-Johnny looks like his mother; having the same black hair, dark eyes and tiny built/height

-Soda did actually try really hard to stay in school but he kept failing

-Darry and Ponyboy both enjoyed school and athletics while Soda isn't into either

-The only thing Dally did honestly was jockeying

-Johnny really good at poker (or Ponyboy is really bad)

-The only time Johnny has been confident and not scared in his life, was when rescuing the kids in the church

-Johnny actually gets hurt because he pushed Ponyboy out first of the church

-Sodapop loves attention and was good with the reporters

-Sodapop has a crazy sweet tooth

-The Curtis brothers all love chocolate

-Darry never locks the front door in case one of the gang need a place to stay

-Ponyboy once found Tim Shepard sitting on their couch reading the newspaper

-Ponyboy thinks that Two-Bit wouldn't have gone inside the church if he was there

-Two Bit wished that the one hurt was anybody but Johnny and that the gang would have still been able to get along had it been anyone else

-Darry once took an aerobatics course and taught all the Greasers everything he knew

-Soda and Two-Bit were doing aerobatics and then got arrested for disturbing the peace

-The Curtis gang are noted to be better at fighting than the Shepard gang

-Tim Shepard looked like a model from the magazines Ponyboy reads

-Ponyboy notes that sweat ran down Dally's face when Johnny died, but it was probably tears

-Cherry drives a Sting Ray

-Curly once slipped off a telephone poll and broke his arm

-Johny's a good listener and all the members of the gang often go to tell him about their day or their problems

-Johnny says in his letter that the lives of kids were worth more than his

[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

[sparklingcid3r]

ik we get ponyboys perspective of wut happened to darry after his parents died (most literally the book) but wut do u think was sodas perspective of watching darry before their parents died as the most popular guy in school/going to college then essentially have to become and be stuck as the one thing darry most obviously did not want to be (stuck in tulsa/ not gt college)

darrys life is underrated tragedy fr

Before I get into this complete devastation I want to direct you to this post! Not exactly the same, but it made me want to walk into traffic 🥰

So anyway, this was super interesting to consider. I imagine Soda definitely looking up to Darry as the stud, the golden child, literally just the coolest guy ever. He had Soc friends, he had greaser friends, and could square up with pretty much anyone who was dumb enough to want the equivalent of a baseball bat to the jaw.

And on top of that, Darry was on a one-track train out of Tulsa, heading out to college soon. In Soda’s eyes, Darry had everything and he was real damn happy with it.

So when all of their lives just crashed around them, Soda obviously had his own problems to deal with before he took notice of anyone else’s. But when his own dust settled and he could see a little more clearly, the change in Darry was definitely obvious. For the first month or so, Darry was just kind of numb. He went through all the necessary proceedings stoically, robotically, never let Soda in on anything regarding child services or the state or boys homes. Sometimes, when they were sitting at the table trying to eat Darry’s best efforts at recipes from their mom’s cookbook, and Pony was too stuck in his own grief moving his food around the plate with his fork, Soda watched Darry get a blank look in his eyes, like he’s staring at something that doesn’t exist, completely detached from reality.

(Soda’s always known that Pony and Darry are more similar than either of them think. Just not in the good ways.)

And for a little, it happened often. Darry comes home from work and sits down in their dad’s recliner, and Soda’s watching the television but in his peripheral he can see Darry drift off to someplace else, and all he can hope is that it’s someplace better.

Soda noticed all the little things. He didn’t smile to himself, didn’t laugh, didn’t tell Pony or Soda to put out their cigs around him, because it didn’t much anymore if he breathed the smoke in. He didn’t talk about his day more than a dismissive wave and that it was fine, he didn’t go out in the evenings.

Darry was against it the entire time, but Soda dropping out of high school seemed to be the thing that officially made him grown in Darry’s eyes. Darry finally pulled him aside when Pony was asleep and together they went through their grocery list, Darry teaching him how to shop cheap, but he always kept things like the bills far away from Soda’s eyes. Soda offered Darry money from the DX, Darry took it, and their lights stayed on and water kept running, but Soda doesn’t know what’s really going on with the numbers. Only Darry does.

Soda knows he’s always been protected by Darry. Since they were little, and even months ago, if Soda ever had any issues with anyone, Darry had his back. Soda didn’t think he was naive about much of anything, but he realizes pretty quickly that Darry will never let anyone have his back the way he does everyone else. Sure, Darry can lean on him, but he’ll be right back to the grind the second he can.

Seeing Darry go from wearing his college sweatshirt into town to his battered work clothes and tool belt placed a guilt in Soda’s heart that he couldn’t ever shake. The worst part was that he never complained about it, not to them. Soda’s beyond grateful to Darry, he’ll never make up for it for as long as he lives. But at the same time he just wants his brother back, and he knows it’ll never happen.

The more I write about Soda the more I love him, ty for helping give my guy some justice🙏 (i hope this is kind of what u wanted to hear abt, sorry if i just yapped in ur ear abt nothing lmfao)

[ambrozjas]

Could you do a song-fic with Sodapop Curtis w/ the song "Stupid Cupid" by Connie Francis? Love your writing, take your time 💕

stupid cupid ꨄ︎

sodapop curtis x fem!reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

THIS WAS SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG BUT I LITERALLY LOCKED IN FOR THIS FIC ITS SO CUTE I SWEAR JUST READ ITTT

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

reader is referred to as a girl and a lady, reader is called gorgeous and beautiful, beginning of this fic has soda in highschool so it takes place before the outsiders

✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ

1609 words, 8588 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

stupid cupid, you’re a real mean guy

i’d like to clip your wings so you can’t fly

it felt like the roman god of love had shot sodapop right through the heart, and boy did soda hate it. that’s all that he thought while he gazed at you, chin held in palm as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. when the school air had a chokehold on everybody, it left out you. you looked absolutely divine. soda wondered if the gods, if there were any or it was just some stories made up to fill the minds of lovesick kids like himself, favored you. because as he looked at you, the sun just seemed to reflect off you just right, to where it coated the side of your face with a honey orange. you looked like an angel sent on earth, disguised as a teenager in soda’s highschool. he asked himself what you were doing in tulsa rather than some other fancy state like california.

i’m in love and it’s a crying shame

and i know that you’re the one to blame

“mr. curtis.” a stern voice broke through to sodapop, breaking the stained glass that in soda’s mind, was a mural of you and only you.

he snapped his neck to look up at the teacher, hovering over his desk as a finger harshly pointed at the paper on soda’s desk, almost empty.

“uh—sorry, sir.” mumbled sodapop as he grabbed his pencil and put his best thinking face on, hoping that the teacher would take the hint and retreat back to his old scratched up desk that looked like it had survived world war one.

the teacher narrowed his eyes at him, his upper lip curling into a sneer as he looked down at soda, before slowly walking back to his desk.

soda comically sighed in relief, taking one more glance back at you. he pressed his lips together tightly as he saw you talking to your friends. he always loved seeing you smile.

he exhaled sharply, earning another warning look from his teacher. soda tilted his head down as he studied the math problems below him, cradling his hand in his hand as his brain tried his best to work.

hey, hey set me free

stupid cupid, stop picking on me

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

i cant do my homework and i cant think straight

“what’s up with you?” ponyboy asked, not looking up from his book. in the corner of his eye, he watched sodapop bounce his leg vigorously as he tried to rub his temples to somehow think better.

“nothin’, pony. don’t worry ‘bout it.” soda responded. he threw his head back to lean on the top of the chair, he was really out of ideas. all that occupied his mind was you. he was writing an essay? you pop up into his brain, he accidentally writes your name to which he has to erase afterwards with red ears.

i meet her every morning ‘bout half past eight

i’m acting like a lovesick fool

you even got me carrying your books to school

how could sodapop miss this once in a lifetime opportunity? he just had to talk to you. one day, when you guys met before school, your breath both evident in the cold oklahoma morning, you made a joke about soda carrying your stuff for you.

“here, be a gentleman, yeah?” a laugh slipper past your lips, and when soda heard that gorgeous sound come out of your mouth, how could he deny you?

your mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape, not even getting the word out before soda grabbed the books from under your arm and held them under his.

you tilted your head as a smile graced your face. gosh, were there wedding bells? soda definitely heard them.

“y’know i was jokin’, right?” you asked, making sure you weren’t forcing him into doing anything. “i can take them back if you want—“

“nah, it’s alright.“ he brushed it off, waving his free hand dismissively before starting again, “plus, you’re right. how could i leave a pretty lady to carry her books on her own?” to that, you sheepishly grinned wider as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear shyly when you looked away.

you mixed me up for good right from the very start

hey now, go play robin hood with somebody else’s heart

the more that soda talked with you, the harder it was to get you out of his head. but the more he talked with you, the less he minded.

soda had dropped out of school. sure, you somewhat contributed to him failing with how much you occupied his head, but it was also on his own.

he was working at the dx with steve, working on cars all day to especially help darry out.

soda wiped his face with his forearm, cleaning his oily rag as steve rambled about something in the background. he hadn’t seen you in awhile, considering that instead of walking with you to school, darry had dropped steve and soda off at work.

but suddenly, the door tripped the bell, giving it a loud ring as soda looked up at who was walking through the door. and speak of the devil.

he could recognize you just from your sneakers. his head whipped back up to meet your eyes, and gosh was it refreshing to see your face again. a soft smile still remained on your face, as it usually did.

“sodapop! so you really was workin’ here, huh?” you asked, eyes roaming around the multitude of shelves in the gas station interior.

soda’s mouth gaped, opening and closing like a fish. he watched as you walked up to the register and drummed your hands lightly on the counter.

“yeah!”, soda finally managed to blurt out, “how’ve you been? anythin’ new happen at school?” he asked, hearing steve finally shut up. soda could just imagine his ears pricking up at the sound of a pretty girl’s voice appearing.

“nothin’ much,” you leaned in and put a hand to the side of your mouth in a secretive manner, “mandy got pregnant.” soda gasped as he comically brought a hand up to his mouth. you guys whispered and gossiped, steve eyeballing both of you cautiously before slinging an arm around soda’s shoulders and brashly giving him a loud, “who’s this, soda?”

sodapop squinted at his friend and slowly turned his head, full of embarrassment. your eyes darted between the two of them, before giving steve a small wave and quietly giving him your name. your eyes fell back on soda, “well, i was just wonderin’ if you’d like to go to the drive-in wit’ me on saturday?”

“yeah, sure!” why was he acting like such a dork now? in front of the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen? but he sighed with relief when you nodded, giving him the same sweet smile you always greeted him with.

you got me jumping like a crazy clown

and i don’t feature what you’re putting down

once you had left the dx, soda went out to the garage and almost squealed, punching the air in excitement. steve narrowed his eyes as he watched through the garage windows, genuinely considering if soda was possessed or not.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

saturday couldn’t come quicker. it was already a great time leading up to the date, soda was confident. he was looked at himself in the mirror, popping his collar with assertiveness and heading out the door.

during the actual date, he tried to make subtle moves. shifting closer to you, touching thighs or linking pinkies. although you seemed okay with it, there was no engagement on your part. that almost worried soda, he knew you asked him on a date, but he was still overthinking. was he not all you expected? was he doing too much? too little?

but at the end of the date, when he drove you home in darry’s car that he begged to drive in, a small silence fell over you when you had reached your destination.

“y’need me to walk you up?”

“it’s alright, but do me a quick favor, will you?” soda couldn’t tear his eyes off your mouth when you spoke, lips painted a wine maroon color that somehow flowed so delicately with your words.

“anything.” was all soda said, before you placed your hand on the side of his cheek, giving him enough time to pull away, before closing your eyes and kissing him.

in that moment, it felt like you two were the only people in the world. just you, and soda, crammed into darry’s truck in the darkness of the night, only illuminated by the small light above you two on the car’s roof.

when you pulled away, you looked at soda’s lips, slightly parted and stained with a light purple-ish red as he looked at you, absolutely mesmerized.

“thank you. i’ll make sure to drop by the dx on my way home, ‘kay?” you said, not waiting for an answer as you bolted out of the vehicle due to your nearing curfew.

well since i’ve kissed her loving lips of wine

the thing that bothers me is that i like it fine

all soda could do was gape as he watched you depart into the sea of outside lights surrounding your front door and windows, watching you turn around give him a small wave once you opened the front door.

still dazed, all soda could do was wave back. before a wide grin appeared on his face as he covered his eyes with his hands.

stupid cupid, sodapop thought.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this better get some likes i worked my ass off for this little fic and it’s only a thousand words 😭😭

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[avroravia]

☆ desert eagle. - I ☆

pairings: trailer park!dallas winston x f!trailer park!reader

summary: dallas can’t seem to keep himself from the pretty girl wandering throughout the park, now can he? but, it seems neither can she.

warnings: f!reader, swearing, familial descriptions, outfit descriptions, may not be time accurate (?)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡

the blazing summer sun of tulsa beat down onto the park, yet everybody seemed unbothered. children continued running around, water guns in hand as they seamlessly weaved through all the trailers. teens funded the gas stations and mini-marts, with icees and cokes in hand as they flocked to the shade. adults were either at work, or running errands throughout tulsa.

wiping the sweat off of his forehead, dallas shut the hood of the car. he tossed his borrowed-box of tools onto the grass, before making his way to the entrance of the car owner’s trailer. living in the park wasn’t necessarily bad, just mundane. going from odd-job to odd-job, then party to party.

dallas’ boots thudded along the metal ramp towards the entrance. met with the sight of an open door, he rapped his knuckles against the frame before peeking his head inside. dallas didn’t see the woman who had originally ‘hired’ him, but rather a younger girl. you. your head perked up from the small mini fridge’s door, which you seemed to be stocking.

“money’s on the table.” you told him, gaze returning to your chores.

dallas examined the trailer further, narrow brown eyes darting from the dusty chandelier to the bruised wooden floors. despite the years of use, it was still relatively clean. he could see the crumpled 10$ bill on the dinner table, which he stuffed into the pocket of his dark-washed jeans.

as you stood up, dallas’ gaze was averted to you. he had known of you, but he never held more than a two second conversation with you. dallas recognized you as ‘angela’s best friend,’ having seen you many times in the shepard’s trailer when he went to visit tim.

once dallas’ brain had made the connection, he turned to actually look at you. he took in the sight of your brown, beat-up cowboy boots, low-rise denim shorts far too short for any mother’s taste, and a cropped budweiser shirt. with your lower midriff exposed and a hand on your hip, you waited for him to say something, anything.

“you- you’re angel’s friend, huh?” dallas asked, almost instantly regretting it. he thought his words were stupid.

“something like that, yeah.” you responded, a faint southern accent showing through.

stepping closer to him, you had an almost sinister smile on your glossed lips. you placed a manicured hand onto his exposed shoulder and slightly swayed your hip outward, making butterflies bloom from every crevice in his guts. regardless, dallas kept his unamused expression. brows furrowed and his drowsy brown eyes narrow per usual.

“s’dallas, right?” you drawled, thumb toying with the thick strap of his white tank top.

dallas only hummed in response. something about you seemed so enticing to him. it drew him in like a sailor to a siren, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. despite the mixed feelings, dallas would be a liar if he said he didn’t like the feeling of your hands on his skin, or the way you looked at him.

“well, dallas,” you mused, “i’ll see you around then...”

he watched as you returned to tidying up the trailer, before taking your words as a cue to leave. stepping out the trailer, dallas shut the door behind him. his thoughts were kept clouded with the memory of you, and he swore he could still feel your soft hands on the skin of his shoulder.

grabbing the tool box, dallas made a mental note to return it to buck. though, the thought was quickly replaced with you. as he walked home, dallas looped your voice in his head, particularly the way you said his name.

man, would dallas get his kicks in with you...

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡

a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed this little drabble! i’m planning on making it a little series, on how tp!reader and tp!dallas first met along with the beginning of their relationship. once im satisfied, it’ll probably just be random moments in their relationship from then on. i’m also happy to take requests on these two and all my other readers >:)) my ask box has been so dry lately lmaoo!

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Gang x reader with an ed (Ana) or like had trouble eating cause of there looks

Summary: The Outsiders react to you having anorexia

Warnings: mentions of body dysmorphia, eating disorders, bad body image

Author's Note: so excited to release the new series I'm working on!

PONYBOY CURTIS

He's never understood why you struggle with your body image, because to him you're so gorgeous

Don't ask him how he found out about your eating disorder he just did, he has his ways and he can do anything if motivated enough

He begs you to eat with him, asking you what you'd want to eat and he'd eat it with you

JOHNNY CADE

He, at first, didn't know you had an eating disorder, greasers aren't known for having good eating habits in the first place

However, one time when you both went out he noticed how you refused all the food offered

He asked you about it later and finally put 2 and 2 together, he's apologizing for not noticing earlier, and urging you to eat, even if it's just a little at a time

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop has always had it rather easy, he doesn't need to work that hard to keep in shape so he doesn't really understand your plight

He's noticing changes in your mood and how you often go non verbal and get sad recently

He's starting to monitor you after that and notice that he never sees you eat, so every now and then he shows up at your house with your favorite foods in hand.

STEVE RANDLE

Steve absolutely adores your body, every curve and bit makes you look more real to him

He notices when you stop eating but thinks it's because of circumstances and so he doesn't say anything yet

When he finally confronts you, he's more upset than sad, he's really frustrated that you would do this to yourself and made you promise you'd stop

TWO BIT MATTHEWS

Honestly finds you so attractive, thinks you're one of the prettiest girls in Tulsa with the best personality

He noticed when you don't eat because his sister baked some cupcakes for you and you didn't touch them

Tells you that although he understands your struggles, you need to remain healthy not only for you but for him and his sister who looks up to you.

DARRY CURTIS

He's the first to notice your eating habits, you two usually cook and eat together so he notices when you don't touch your food.

He asks you if you wanted to make something else and reminds you of the importance of eating

He knows what's happening since he was in football and had body dysmorphia then so he never forces you to eat but rather uses coercion

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas’s diet consists of soda, cigarettes and whatever food he mooch off of others, safe to say he doesn't really notice when your food habits change

He notices how much weight you're loosing and tells you to eat more because you look like a skeleton

It takes him a while to understand what an "ed" is, and even after that he doesn't understand why you can't just eat, but every now and then he tries to take you out to get some milkshakes or something

[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 //

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil. A while back, you came to Tulsa, Oklahoma and gave a talk and a reading and discussed an author who I believe was from around here who had greatly influenced you, whose work is now out of print I believe. I’ve unfortunately forgotten his name. I’m now an archivist student in Tulsa and interested in seeing if I could make some of his work a “holy grail” of my personal old book collection, because your description of his writing was magical. Do you mind telling me his name?

(The most recent addition to my collection was a beautiful 1893 edition of Vanity Fair! It’s my oldest book so far.)

Hi name was R. A. Lafferty - Raphael Aloysius Lafferty.

This book is a good place to start:

[kaytheday]

Sodapop in Vietnam Fanfiction Master List

I thought I would make a master list of all the Vietnam fics that I love so I can have them all in one place. If you have recommendations for me, PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I am always in need of a good recommendation. Fics will be added to this post as I go along!

Brothers your Hearts are Pure - Their paths diverged when Soda was drafted and Ponyboy began college. Two years later, they’re confronted with the ways both of them have changed while Darry is away for a couple of weeks in the summer of 1971. This is the one that got me started on Vietnam fics... that and my love of history but a lot of it was this fic

Into the Jungle - Everyone's lives are turned upside down when Soda gets drafted into the army. How do his brothers and the rest of the gang deal with the news? Will Soda make it back home?

The Trip - (Unfinished) For Soda Curtis, life was always supposed to be a journey, but never a simple one. One of my favorites!

He's Home - Soda fighting in the Vietnam war, except he lives and is sent home after suffering from a nearly fatal injury.

Bruising - (Unfinished) Sodapop Curtis comes home from Vietnam spitting, shining; the tarmac the plane floats on down to at Travis gleams grease-gold in the sun of early morning.

8000 Miles Away - How Sodapop ends up going MIA in the Vietnam war, and how he finds his way home again.

Reclamation - Soda is seriously wounded in combat. Steve will do whatever it takes to get him back home to Tulsa alive.

He's Not There - Sodapop leaving was only the beginning. The Vietnam War takes its toll as Darry Curtis struggles to hold on to his remaining brother, while remembering what he's lost in the process. This one is more Darry centered but it is fantastically done, also this one is on ff.n

Crash Out - July, 1973. Almost one year since Soda left for basic training. Just over one month since his last letter home.

Heart and Soul. - Sodapop doesn’t return home from war.

Homecoming - A lot has happened in the last three years since Ponyboy Curtis saved his best friend from a fire, not all of it good, but if he knows anything, it's that he can always rely on his brothers. This is one that I often come back to.

Home - A series of one shots and moments of Soda coming home from war. Told non-chronologically and through random moments and pieces.

Ties that Bind - It's their worst nightmare. After working so hard to stay together, their family is suddenly torn apart again. Sodapop had just turned 18 when he had gotten his notice. He had been drafted to fight on the front lines of the Vietnam War.

[gutsyns]

Summary: Ridiculously indulgent. I was curious about what Johnnys personality might be like if he had survived the fire and went to prison, etc, and this was the result.

Moving to Tulsa was definitely not on your bucket list of things to do during your first official year of being an adult, and yet here you were.

The place was a paradox; divided between the upper class suburban areas where people paraded around in poodle skirts and pearls, and the other side of things where the houses were worn down, some as far as decrepit, and the glint of steel from a drawn switchblade was more common than a simple, “Hey, how are ya?”

You glance around, weary, as your father and sister unload the van. Once upon a time, you may have found yourself living on the other side of things, rubbing elbows with future soccer moms of Tulsa, making nice with all of the high school baseball stars that would one day take over their fathers car insurance companies, but not anymore. Not since the years of hospital bills, that had built up to the point that college was a mere dream to be scoffed at.

You sigh, kick some dirt. Squint at your new ‘home’. It’s almost identical to all the others around the block, small and kind of run down looking, but at least all the windows are intact and there’s a decent sized porch. Summers in Tulsa, at least, were supposed to be hot and you could almost picture it already; sprawled out on a deck chair, ice cold lemonade in your hand.

If you weren’t working all of the hours that god sends, that is.

“Are you going to stand there looking dim, or are you going to come help us?” Your sister snaps from the back of the van, a few boxes already stacked in her arms.

You scowl at her, but dutifully move forward and take the boxes out of her arms. She sighs, rubbing her forearm against her damp face. Her hair is lank with sweat, face flushed, but she’s still as pretty as she ever is. Blonde and blue eyed, she’s the perfect specimen for California, but you’re not sure how that’s going to translate here in Tulsa. It makes you pause, staring at her as you worry your lip.

“What?” She asks, sharp. “What are you looking at? God, you’re being so strange today.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” You snip back, “Not like we’ve just uprooted our entire lives to move to the bum-fuck of nowhere.”

Your sister scowls at your defensiveness and you glower back, but there’s a sad little voice in your head that wonders at how the two of you got here. You used to be so close. Twins, after all, were generally each others first best friends. And that’s what you had been, for a long time, before your hangout sessions began to be held in hospital rooms instead of the mall, and instead of your biggest worries being what you were going to wear to prom, it was now how were you both going to hold together all of your fathers broken parts?

“Girls.” The aforementioned man chimes in. “That’s enough.”

He sounds disappointed enough that you break eye contact with your sister- a sign of weakness that normally couldn’t be afforded- and scrutinise him. His plaid shirt hangs from his slight frame, and theres a bone-tired air that seems to cling to him. The dark circles under his eyes whisper that there’s not much left of the day for him to see, so you relent and take a pointed step back.

Your father smiles slightly- or, at least tries to. It comes out as more of a grimace, than anything.

“This is supposed to be our new start. Just-“ he breaks off, hissing through his teeth. “Just try to pretend you like each other, okay? At least until we get unpacked, that’s all I ask.”

Guilt tugs at you, so you nod your head without another word and begin to make the trek into the house with the boxes. You plop them down in what you assume will be the living room, glancing around at the cobwebs and dust trails along the window pane.

California suddenly feels like a lifetime away, and a yearning fills you that nearly knocks the breath out of your lungs. You wonder, idly, what your friends back home are doing right now. You picture them laughing, skin warm and glistening under the ever-present sunshine. You close your eyes, and can almost smell the salt of the ocean, feel the warm glow of sunshine against your skin.

But then you open your eyes and you are still here, in this dust infested, shell of a house. You watch your father and sister struggle to get the boxes from the van, bickering under their breaths with one another, and something inside of you seems to go quiet. You shut out the feeling of the sunshine, because what good is it here, in this place?

You push it down, into the same box that you’ve locked away the sound of your mothers laugh, the smell of her favourite perfume, and you shove it deep, deep down. Your fathers right; this is supposed to be a new start.

There’s no room for the past here.

-

It’s six in the evening before you make your way downstairs, a thin sheet of sweat coating your entire body and pounding in your temples that won’t seem to go away, no matter how much water you throw back.

Between you, your father and your sister, you all managed to make a good amount of progress to the house. It wasn’t even close to being finished, but nothing more would be done tonight.

You comb through the rooms, looking for your sister. You’d left her downstairs around an hour ago as you’d hauled your father, exhausted and heavy limbed, to bed. The two of you had shared a knowing glance when his eyes had started to droop, and it hadn’t taken long for him to succumb to his exhaustion. Unfortunately this was just a new part of normal life, and something that you both inevitably had to deal with.

The downstairs is quiet, no sign of life. You cock your head, ears straining and… is that music?

You follow the low thrum, and it brings your out onto the porch. Your deck chairs from back home have been pushed onto it clumsily, and theres a small table placed between them, portable radio and two tumblr glasses shoved onto it.

Your sister is sprawled out on of the chairs and, when you make a low noise of questioning, she blinks up at you lazily and gestures with a bottle of bourbon.

“Want one?” She questions, and it’s the white flag that’s needed.

“Or ten.” You sigh, sliding into the chair beside her.

It’s quiet for a moment, just the low thrum of the music and the tinkling of glass against glass. The night air is pleasant, warm, and as you shotgun your drink and gesture for another, you almost feel at peace.

“He sleeping?” You sister asks eventually, voice muted.

“Mhm. Gone before his head hit the pillow. He’ll be out until the morning.”

She hums in response, and it is quiet again. You stretch out in your chair, preening in the fading sunlight. The alcohol is making you more relaxed, pliable, and a small smile tugs at your lips as you shield your eyes from the daylight.

“What are you doing out here anyway?”

“Trying to pretend I’m still home.” Your sister says, wistful. “People watching.”

You look at her then, eyebrow arched in question, and she gestures vaguely towards the other side of the street. You lean up on your elbows, squinting, and then finally see what she means.

Across the way is a house that, outwardly, looks much the same as your own. There’s a group of boys out the front of it though, rowdy and boyish as they holler at one another, jumping on each others back, even going as far as to wrestle each other to the dirt. One boy has another in a headlock, while another shouts at them to behave from the front door. Two of them are simply laughing at them from the porch, trails of smoke billowing as the light up their cigarettes.

“Huh.” You comment, interest peaked despite yourself.

Your sister senses this, of course, and sends you a sly grin as she pours you both another drink.

“Should we go say hi?”

You shake your head almost instantaneously.

“Aw, come on.” She pouts. “We’re here for the long haul. Might as well make friends, right?”

You don’t even have time to say just how much of a bad idea that is before she’s jumping up, adjusting her skirt and fluffing her hair as she does so. She stumbles, ever so slightly, and you send a fleeting glance at the bottle of bourbon on the table. Just how many of those had she had before you’d come downstairs?

“How do I look?” She asks, smiling coyly.

Perfect, you don’t say, like always.

Your sister already has an over-blown ego, there’s absolutely no need for you to inflate it any further.

“This is a bad idea.” You say instead. “The people around here aren’t like the ones at home. You heard uncle Miles, this place can be dangerous. Like, real dangerous. Like, killed dead dangerous.”

She rolls her eyes and sends a pointed look towards the boys across the way. They’ve migrated away from jumping on each-other, and are now having a contest to see who can do the best back-flip off of a car. Someone is eating a whole chocolate cake with a fork.

“Yeah, they look real dangerous.” She drawls, shrugging at your dumbfounded face. “Suit yourself. Enjoy trailing around our dust-infested house. I’m going to go find myself some fun.”

She grabs the bottle of bourbon and flounces off the porch without another word. You stare after her for a moment, temples pounding with an on-coming tension headache. It’s a hard burden to bear, being the only person in your family with a lick of common sense.

Stubbornness flares in you as you seethe, watching as your sister hollers a greeting to the bewildered boys, who stop what they’re doing rather abruptly as they watch her approach. You take a small sip of your drink, then another larger one as you watch them hesitantly approach her at the gate.

Screw it, you think, let her make her own mistakes. Why should you always be the one to clean up her messes? So, you stay on the porch and you watch. You watch as she gradually wrangles an invitation into the garden, you watch as the sun begins to fade away and they pass the bottle of bourbon around, you watch as she does her own perfectly executed flip off of one of the cars- which makes you roll your eyes, because you were the one who taught her that- and you watch as, eventually, they all begin to migrate into the house.

And that is where you draw the line- because uncle Miles was very detailed with his warnings about your new found home, and as annoying as she might be on any given day, you’re not about to allow your sister to become a statistic.

Steeling yourself, you force yourself out of the safety of your front porch, and make your way to the other house. It’s about as dark as it’s going to get now, and a cool breeze nips at the exposed skin on your legs. You curse yourself for a moment, forgetting that you were still only in a soft pair of shorts and a tank, but there’s no time to change.

There’s a warm glow coming from the windows of the house, and you can hear rambunctious laughter coming from inside. Gritting your teeth you knock the door, soft at first, then louder when you get no response. There’s a pause in the laughter, soft mumbling, and then light pours into the darkness as the front door opens.

“Well hey there, darlin’.” A clearly inebriated man drawls. “What can we do for ya?”

You take him in for a moment, eyes trailing from his well-worn Mickey Mouse shirt, to his dishevelled greased hair. You blink, fumble for a moment, before finding your words.

“I’d like my sister back, if that’s okay.” You deadpan, leaning forward to knock the door away from his sprawled arm, almost making him topple forward in the process.

“Hey, just wait a damn minute-“ he yelps, affronted, but you push past him and storm into the house.

Multiple pairs of bewildered eyes stare at you but you ignore them, scanning the room for your sister. As soon as you do, you resist the urge to smack a hand to your forehead and grind your teeth once more.

She’s perched in the lap of a man- a man who is giving you an extremely nasty glare- and she is absolutely wasted. Her skirt is askew, blonde hair dishevelled and her eyes narrow in on you, glassy, as she gives you a dopey smile and a little two-fingered salute.

“Oh hey twin!” She crows, words slurring. “You finally made it to the party.”

“Twin?” You hear someone mumble. “They sure don’t look like twins.”

You flush, despite yourself. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it prods at old insecurities and gets your back up all the same. You glare at the general direction of where the voice came from, before focusing back on your sister.

“Home. Now.” Your voice leaves no room for argument, but she’s not picking up on it.

“Don’t be a party pooper.” She pouts, twirling a strand of the mans blonde hair around her finger. He responds with a cool, measured smile that makes your temper skyrocket.

Without warning you charge further into the room and towards your sister, cheeks flushed.

“Are you actually kidding me right now? We have an entire store to set up tomorrow- or should I say I do, since you’re going to be too hungover to be worth a damn.”

At that your sister stills, before sending you a cutting smile that is all to familiar. You brace yourself, but the words still sting all the same.

“Worth a damn,” She parrots, voice cruel. “We all know the only reason you’re on my ass so much is because, out of the two of us, mom knew I was the only one who would be worth a damn.”

And, god, you know that she’s drunk. You know that she wouldn’t say this sober but, the thing about your sister when drunk, is that she is cuttingly honest. She has a reputation for it and, well, maybe deep down there’s a little voice that’s telling you she isn’t wrong.

It takes the breath from you and you gasp, eyes stinging with tears you refuse to let fall. She too blinks, seeming to realise what she’s said. Her hand flies to her mouth, but you shake your head.

“Go home, now. “ You say softly, voice breaking around the edges. “Or so help me god, I will tell dad about every shady stunt you ever pulled back in California. You want to be the one to explain to him why exactly I bailed you out of jail so many times?”

Her eyes narrow, any hint of remorse disappearing in an instant.

“You wouldn’t.” She hisses.

You send her a measured smile, cocking a brow.

“Try me.”

She jumps up from the boys lap, squealing in frustration. Her shoulder knocks roughly into yours as she storms towards the doorway, and you watch half in dismay and half in exasperation as she totters across the road, stumbling and falling a few times. She was going to give you holy hell tomorrow if her legs were scratched up.

You let out a bark of laughter, though it is sucked dry of any humour. There’s absolutely nothing funny about this entire situation- shit, about your entire life.

“God, this day sucks.” You say to no one in particular.

There’s an extraordinarily loud silence in the room, and then-

“Uh- hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. Anything we can do to help ya?” A voice says, sounding unsure and half terrified.

You blink, glancing around the room. Multiple pairs of eyes stare back at you, looking absolutely horrified. You feel a sudden dampness on your face and, with no small feat of embarrassment, realise that you’re crying in a room full of strange men that you have to share your new neighbourhood with.

The one that spoke just has to be about the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen; golden hair, soft and fine, and the most expressive eyes. His full lips are turned down into a sympathetic expression as he stares at you, and you feel yourself flush a bright, brilliant red in response.

“Uh, no, I’m good.” You stutter out, mortified. “I’m awfully sorry about barging in like this.”

The full extent of your actions hit you like a brick to the gut, and you’re so embarrassed that you find you can’t look any of them in the eye.

“S’all right. Lord knows it’s been gettin’ awful tame ‘round these parts. We were all overdo a bit of excitement.” His tone is encouraging, but you don’t dare look at him again.

“I should really get back.” You stutter out, staring determinedly at the wall. “Y’know, make sure she’s okay.”

“Sure.” His soft voice returns. “Hey, Johnnycakes, you mind walking her back?”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary-“

You say, at the same time the mean looking blonde pipes up.

“Why’s Johnny gotta do the charity work?”

Someone steps forward though, directly into your line of vision, and you gasp when you see them. A dark haired boy, tall in a lanky- stretched out kind of way. He’s clad in denim jeans and a black t-shirt, dark skin scattered with discoloured markings that your brain somehow associates with those of burns.

His eyes assess you as you take him in- and, god. His eyes. You’ve never seen eyes like that, so dark that they’re basically black, framed with lashes that would make any girl green with envy. It’s his facial expression that gets you more than anything though: completely stoic, not letting anything in or out.

He’s just about the most intimidating person you’ve ever seen.

“I don’t mind none.” He says, voice deep and raspy. “S’long as you don’t.”

You feel as though this is a test, somehow. He’s watching you, eyes flat and blank, but it’s like he’s waiting for something. What, you don’t know, but it feels important nonetheless.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Johnny.” A younger looking boy pipes up, smiling shyly when you make eye contact with him. “He’s the best of us, really.”

You take a deep breath, eyeing Johnny. He stares back, impassive, then quirks an eyebrow in question.

“Well- sure, then. I guess. Thank you.”

He nods once as he grabs a denim jacket from the sofa, still impassive and then makes an aborted gesture towards the door. You follow him, shaky, but a voice stops you before you can fully exit the threshold.

“Hey, wait a sec.”

An older man approaches, tall and muscular. He looks the oldest of the bunch, maybe mid-twenties and he’s sporting an apologetic look on his face, hand outstretched with a full bottle of bourbon in it.

“Take this. Them hooligans in there just about polished off the whole of your bottle, s’only fair.”

You stare at him for a moment, wide-eyed, before shaking your head in protest.

“Oh no, really, it’s fine. Looks like my sister certainly had her fair share of it anyway.”

There’s no point in trying to explain that there’s never exactly a shortage of liquor at your place, that you all share the same vices when it comes to coping with life- or, more specifically, the curveballs that it liked to throw.

The man is insistent though, going as far as to lean forward and press the bottle into your hands.

“Take it as a sorry then. We’re really not that bad over here, honest. I’m Darry. That one there is my brother Soda-pop.“ He gestures to the handsome one with the soft voice, who smiles, then to the little shy one. “And that there’s my other kid brother, Ponyboy.”

You blink at him, wondering if you’re being taken. When his expression doesn’t change, you offer a wry smile.

“Unique names.”

“You bet.” He offers a smile in return, then hesitates. “We really are sorry ‘bout your sister. Didn’t mean nothin’ by it, she just seemed like she was looking for a friendly face.”

You snort at that, grasping the bottle none-too gently and giving a short eye roll.

“That she was. I’m just glad she found you guys instead of-“

You break off, not wanting to offend them. Darry nods though, grim understanding painted on his face. He scrubs a hand through his hair and gives a curt nod towards your house.

“Nah, you’re right to worry. Ain’t much good about this neighbourhood, but we’re not the ones to be worried about. Get on home now, yeah? Johnny won’t let nothin’ happen to ya.”

He looks at the other boy- man?- over your shoulder, who gives a curt nod in response. With a small smile, Darry shuts the door, taking any of the light that was pooling through with him. You take a sharp breath, suddenly unnerved, and feel Johnny’s eyes on you in the night.

Christ, this whole situation is insane. Why did you agree to let a strange man walk you home? The normal, rational part of your head is screaming at you right now. This is exactly how every horror movie starts, and you’ve walked yourself right into it.

“You fixin’ on sleeping on the Curtis’ porch tonight, or am I walkin’ ya home?”

His raspy voice brings you out of your own head and you gasp, spinning so that you’re now facing him. You can’t see what his expression is doing, but his words make you think he might be making fun of you. Though his voice stays perfectly blank, there’s something in it that you pick up on as nearly taunting.

“Well?” He presses once more, and you glower at him.

“Alright, Jesus. Let’s go then.”

Both of you are silent as you walk, the shifting of gravel under your feet seeming louder than usual. There’s a loud holler from down the street, followed by the smashing of glass and you jump, glancing frantically in the direction it came from.

“S’alright.” Johnny says. “It’s way on down the street. They won’t bother ya. Only fight that types got these days is with each-other.”

You glance up at him, and half of his face is lit up by the streetlights. He glaring straight ahead, jaw tight, clearly uncomfortable. You can’t help but feel bad.

“I really am sorry about all of this.”

Johnny’s jaw loses some of its tension, and he side-eyes you.

“It ain’t a problem. I really don’t mind walkin’ ya home. I’ll be headin’ back myself anyways.”

“Seems a bit silly to be walking me across the street though, no?” You ask, hesitant, but curious now that he seems to be opening up a little to conversation.

Johnny gives a small huff, eyes darting around the empty streets as he does so.

“Round these parts? Ya can never be too careful, doll.”

Something in your brains freezes, restarts and then goes on overdrive at his casual use of the pet name. You can practically feel your face glow, and it doesn’t help that you just know his eyes are on you. You choke slightly and trip over your own two feet, but strong hands grip your forearms and stop you from falling on your face. You glance up, and Johnny is looking right back at you. There’s something a little warmer in that obsidian than before, and it has your stomach doing confusing somersaults.

“Easy there.” He says quietly. “Ya alright?”

“Peachy.” You breathe. “You?”

He stares at you for a beat, confused maybe by the question, before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m alright. You go and get yourself inside now, okay? No more roamin’ around in the dark.”

When you glance up, the both of you are standing outside of your house. The porch light is still on, the radio from before still playing lowly on the table. You can see that light in the room your sister has claimed is still on, but the likely hood of her actually being awake is probably slim-to- none. Your fathers room remains dark, just as you left it. It’s strange to think that he could have slept through all of this; he never would have before.

An odd ache of loneliness creeps through your bones, wholly unexpected. You glance up at Johnny who looks like he’s getting ready to turn on his heel, contemplating.

“Do you want to come in?” You blurt out, not giving yourself a chance to take the words back.

Johnnys eyebrows all but crawl into his hairline. It’s the most expressive you’ve seen him all night. His dark skin flushes and, shit, it’s only then that you realise the double-standard behind your words.

“Not like that-“ you flounder, “I just meant-“

Soft laughter cuts you off and, in that moment, you wish furiously that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Anything would be better than this humiliation.

“Probably best I don’t.” He replies, gallantly attempting to taper off his amusement. “It’s late and I’ve work in the mornin’. “

“Yeah. Gotcha.” You choke out. “Look, thank you for walking me home. I’ll, uh, see you around.”

You’re about to spin around and launch yourself into the house but quick, deft fingers loop around your wrist and hold you steady. Johnny’s fingers brush lightly against your pulse point and, when you get the courage to glance up him once more, there’s something tentative in his expression. His dark eyes churn, and an almost-smile tugs slightly at his lips.

“See ya around.” He echos, thumb brushing your wrist firmly once more before he lets go, turning on his heel and striding down the dark street.

You stand there for a moment, dumbfounded, and watch him disappear. The moment is quickly shattered when another scream echoes down the street, however, followed by a deafening crash. You hurry up the porch, rushing into the house and locking the door behind you.

For a moment you remain still, back pressed against the front door. Your heart is thudding against your chest, and it’s not from fear- well, not exactly. You don’t know how to categorise this feeling. The only word that springs to mind is the very thing you spent your entire night trying to prevent;

Trouble.

[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

[maenchkin]

-“Warm Memories”

how ponyboy got close with y/n

(side series to “pink tulips”)

-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🌷

Pony’s POV

You know, out of the entire gang, I think Y/n gets me the best. Johnnie and Soda are definitely up there with understanding me, but with Y/n I think it’s different because she doesn’t have to act all tough in front of the boys. I think a lot about how life would be if she never took a liking to Darry. I think it would be a lot less colorful without her.

Y/n’s known me since I was a pup. I can sorta recall the first time she was over. Darry n her were working on some sort of assignment for school, and she let me read some of her books.

Well, read to the best of my ability with how young I was. 

Mom and Dad enjoyed her jokes that she cracked in front of em, so she stayed for dinner. After she left Mom demanded she be over more often. She said to Darry, “You don’t let a girl like that one go,”. I think that really stuck with Darry, because Darry and Y/n have been basically inseparable since.

Sometimes I don’t understand how she can put up with Darry, but Y/n can put up with anyone. She’s friends with half the town, and definitely doesn’t need us. In fact, if it weren’t for the gang I think Y/n and Darry would’ve been some sorta Socs. She definitely has the connections. 

I’ve asked her about it before, and she snorted, laughing at my comment like it was some outta left field statement. She said “I got you, and Darry, the gang, and my Mama. Why would I ever wanna be a Soc when I have you guys?”.

Everyone in the gang loves her too. Her house is bigger than ours, so it can house the whole group pretty comfortably. She has an extra bedroom too, which is always available in case one of us needs a place to crash. Dally’s there any time he’s gotta escape the fuzz, and Johnny is there prolly once a week. But Y/n has to drag him there since he’d never ask her for such a big favor. Her cookings amazing too. It competes with my mom’s, which is a hard feat.

She’s the first person Dally calls when he needs a ride from the cooler, but from what I’ve heard from him, the first thing he hears from her is “nagging”. She cares a lot for Dally. The two of them coming from big cities and all, she knows what the hood’s like in places like that.

I’ve never met Y/n’s dad. From what I’ve gathered, her parents had a nasty divorce, which resulted in Y/n and her mother moving from Chicago all the way to Tulsa, where they took Y/n’s Grandma’s house. For a few years Y/n would go to stay with her dad for a few months in the summer, but that stopped after her father got remarried. I’ve seen a picture of him in Y/n’s bedroom. He’s a good lookin’ guy, but not Hollywood handsome like Soda. More ordinary handsome.

Y/n’s mom is great. You can really tell where she gets all of her generosity from. The first time Darry went over to their house, his shirt had some sort of hole, or tear or something. He came back with the hole repaired, and a box of cookies that Y/n’s mom demanded he take home after she found out about Soda and I.

I’ve heard the term ‘You can take a girl from the city but you can’t take the city from the girl’ before, and I think it definitely applies to Y/n sometimes. Even though she moved away in gradeschool, I think she’s a still a city girl at heart.

Don’t get me wrong, Soda’s gotta be one of my favorite people. But unlike Soda, Y/n can sit through movies, and loves to read with me. I would love to do it more often, but she works a lot, like Darry. I’m still grateful though. 

Her house has this huge room dedicated to books. Like a personal library. Y/n said a lot of the books were her mother’s, but some of them she’s read herself, or were gifted to her by family members. I’m welcome to any book there, as long as I return it in good condition.

Darry and her confuse me a little bit sometimes. It’s blaringly obvious the two like each other, so I don’t understand why they ain’t together yet. The boys have a bet going on the two of them. Soda and I think that they’ll be getting together any minute now, and Two-Bit and Steve think that they’ve already gotten married in secret. I’m really hopin’ Soda and I are right because I got a good few dollars relying on it.

I would say that I didn’t get super close with Y/n till I entered secondary school. When I was in 6th grade, I really found an interest in reading. My English teacher announced that as a requirement in his class, we had to read this whole list of books. All the books were already rented out from the library, and we ain’t got too many of the books on the list at home.

Third POV

“Darry I ain’t know what to do,” Pony sighed, resting his chin on the dining room table, staring at his brother doing homework. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait till the other kids are done with the books,” he said, half interested. “But the kids in my grade take ages to get through a page! I wanna get goin’ on this now,” Pony whines, rolling his eyes. “Now don’t you get mouthy Ponyboy. You’ll get to it when you get to it,” Darry responded. The front door opened and closed. “Hey Y/n,” Darry called out, “Heya Dar-Bear,” Y/n responded, sitting down next to him. Darry and Pony’s heads whipped up. “What’d you just call me?” Darry asked, confused. “Nothing,” Y/n teased, pulling out her notebook. 

“Darry, you don’t get it. I’m itchin’ to start this now,” Pony said, continuing his and Darry’s conversation. “Hm? What’s going on?” Y/n asked, looking between Darry and Ponyboy. “Ponyboy’s got this assignment in his English clas-” “We gotta read a whole buncha books in my class and I’m totally outta luck! All the books are checked outta the library.” Pony whined, staring at Y/n. 

“Hmmm, well. I could do something to help you,” Y/n smiled, watching Ponyboy’s eyebrows lift, “What d’ya mean Y/n?” he asked. “You’ll see.” she responded, “I gotta finish my work first,”. 

-

Y/n finished her last algebra problem, and looked back up to Ponyboy, who was already looking at her. “All finished?” Pony asked eagerly, smiling at her. Y/n giggled, setting down her pencil. “I suppose,” she smiled grabbing her bag. “Darry, we’re heading out,” Y/n called to Darry, who was in the living area. “Alright Y/n” he responded.

“C’mon Pony, the surprise’s at my house,” Y/n said, leading Pony out the door.

-

The two approached Y/n’s house pretty quickly, thanks to the extra pep in Pony’s step. 

“My mom’s at work right now,” Y/n said, opening the door. Pony made sure to slip his shoes off when he got in. He still shudders at the memory of Y/n’s mom chewing out Two-Bit for tracking mud on the carpet.

“Ok, now close your eyes,” Y/n said. Ponyboy shut his eyes and felt Y/n grab his and to lead him through the house. He heard her open the door and let his feet follow Y/n’s pull.

“You can open your eyes now Pony,” she said. Pony let his eyes flutter open, and dropped his jaw. All around him were books! Books from the floor to ceiling! 

“It’s our family library. Feel free to read any book in here, just promise to take care of it while you have it.” Y/n said, watching Ponyboy analyze the shelf in front of him. “Really?” Ponyboy asked in disbelief, looking back at her, “Yeah definitely. I’m glad you like reading, it’s good for you,” she said patting his shoulder. “Now, what books are on your list? We should hopefully have most of them,” Y/n said, looking around. 

Ponyboy grabbed the list that was folded in his pocket. “We can start with ‘Old Yeller’,”

-

Pony’s POV

Ma really saved my butt back then. And turns out, that assignment really jump started my book addiction, thanks to her. We would have reading sessions after school. I got my list finished in two months flat. My teacher said I was the first one done, and Y/n took me out for burgers at the Dingo that night to celebrate. Darry and Sodapop tagged along too. Y/n and I got real close after all that, I think she was happy she had someone to talk about books to. Y/n’s a real special girl to me and the gang as a whole. Life would be a heck of a lot different without her.

[im14andivebeen14foramonth]

do you have dally hcs...?

OH BOY DO I

when dally was younger (13-14ish) and he first started getting into horse riding, he would wear a cowboy hat all of the time. he thought it made him look super cool. he still has it now and ofc he'll whip out a cowboy hat when he's riding his horses. he pulls it off surprisingly well

this man will NEVER get a tattoo he hates the idea of messing with his body and his appearance like that

he can play the guitar a little bit, just a few songs here and there. when he's in a really good mood the gang can usually convince him to play for them

this poor boy sunburns so easily. in the summer he almost always has a pink tint across his nose and cheeks. the worst is his shoulders and chest, they burn sooo easily. whenever the gang goes swimming or plays football or smthn in the summer, darry has to spray sunblock all over dally ever hour. darry's also the one putting aloe vera all over dally's back when he does end up burning, which he keeps in the fridge so that its cold when dally shows up with a really bad burn

dally ran away from his dad and came back to tulsa alone. his dad hardly cared that he left and dally thought he was finally free. one day though, dally shows up beaten at the curtis house. it's the worst he's ever looked, and darry knows that something's wrong because dally never walks out of a fight looking that bad. dally tells him that it was his dad, who had showed up in tulsa out of nowhere, and it's one of the only times darry has ever seen dally cry, let alone breakdown in the way dally did. he ends up spending a few nights at the curtis house because darry can see how scared dally is that he might run into his dad again

dally's best core subject in school was science. people always thought he was just dumb at school, but he was actually pretty smart and just didn't care enough to apply himself. he had a lot of fun in science though, especially when they would do labs and experiments, and when he was still going to school, he'd sometimes help pony with his science work

his eyesight and hearing aren't that good, he's usually squinting when he has to read something or look far away, and the gang knows to speak up around him so that he can hear them

dally can't really grow a beard or anything, but he does have to shave every few days. whenever he gets out of the cooler the gang is always shocked when they see that he has stubble

easily one of the most ticklish members of the gang, but no one is going to test that and risk a broken nose

he's sooo prone to sinus infections. half of the winter his voice sounds all raspy and nasally and he's sniffling every five seconds

he loves photography. he often described scenery in detail and stuff and would say "man, that'd make a great picture" and so for his 17th birthday darry got him a little camera. dally tried to look tuff but he was smiling like an idiot when he opened it. he takes lots of good photos of scenic places and of the gang

this sort of goes along with the last one, but if dally ended up really applying himself, he'd get a job in film making. he's great when it comes to setting up visuals and making the scenes and sets look amazing. he honestly really has a good eye for making things look pretty. when he's older, he'll sometimes let the gang come on set and just watch him work and experience the behind the scenes of the movie making (even better if dally's working on a movie adaptation of one of pony's books. or I can see two-bit being an actor and starring in the movie dally's working on)