#pony’s never gonna get to live the life he wished for with johnny

[qprpbj]

queer ponyboy & queer darry parallels. just Btw. in case you even care.

[witchyleehibernates-fics]

The Outsider's Time Loop

Summary:

Ponyboy stopped short, confusion running through him as he stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house. He’d been here before, he knew without knowing exactly what day it was, what time, and what was gonna happen next. There had only been two things on his mind before now; Paul Newman, and a ride home. He knew because he’d written about it. He knew he had. He could still remember the grade he’d gotten, and… Ponyboy shook his head when someone bumped him, and he started walking again. He had no idea what was happening, he had no idea what had… caused whatever had happened to happen. He swallowed as he kept walking, his mind racing as he tried to think of anything that could have caused this… Maybe what he thought he lived through didn’t happen… maybe it was just a nightmare. ……… ……… ……… Or, In which Ponyboy gets stuck in a Time Loop. Will he be able to save his friends and break out of the never-ending loop? Or will he be stuck, having to relive the same two weeks that nearly destroyed him, and his life?

Content Warning's/Trigger Warnings: Time Loop AU, Main Character Injury, Main Character Death, Minor Character Death, Mental Breakdowns, Period Typical Violence, Canon Typical Violence, Sick Characters, Injuries and Blood at times, Canon Character Death

(If I think of others, it will be added here or in a reblog when/as I update about chapters)

Characters: Ponyboy Curtis, Sodapop Curtis, Darry Curtis, Johnny Cade, Dally Winston, Steve Randle, Two-Bit Mathews

Chapters: 1/?

Words: 4,190

Status: In Progress

Fanfic Links:

|| Ao3 || Fanfiction Net ||

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Ponyboy stopped short, confusion running through him as he stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house. He’d been here before, he knew without knowing exactly what day it was, what time, and what was gonna happen next. There had only been two things on his mind before now; Paul Newman, and a ride home. He knew because he’d written about it. He knew he had. He could still remember the grade he’d gotten, and…

Ponyboy shook his head when someone bumped him, and he started walking again. He had no idea what was happening, he had no idea what had… caused whatever had happened to happen. He swallowed as he kept walking, his mind racing as he tried to think of anything that could have caused this… Maybe what he thought he lived through didn’t happen… maybe it was just a nightmare.

Pony had the strongest feeling that what he remembered living through, was absolutely not a nightmare. He wished it was, more than anything, Ponyboy wished that his memories were a lie based off of a fear. But where had the fear come from that Johnny and Dally would die? Where would that have come from?

He swallowed, one hand in his pocket as the other came up and rubbed just under his chin, finding that there was no scab or any sort of raised skin, he hadn’t been cut there. Not yet at least. It was almost too easy to spot the red Corvair trailing him, in his opinion, after that. He wondered how he’d missed it the last time in his nightmare-but-not.

He wondered, briefly, if he could run. If he was fast enough, he was the fastest runner on the track team, could he make it home or at least in sight of the house before the Socs caught up to him? It was a thought, and he knew without a doubt that the gang was all at the house; the gang being his brothers, Darrel ‘Darry’ and Sodapop ‘Soda’ Curtis, and the four boys they hung around since childhood, Dallas ‘Dally’ Winston, Johnny Cade, Two-Bit Mathews, and Steve Randle.

Ponyboy glanced to the side, and he knew the Socs knew he’d seen them. Ponyboy took a breath, a deep one, and broke into a sprint once he’d exhaled. Apparently, the Socs hadn’t expected Ponyboy to take off running like he did. He’d spotted them a lot sooner than he had the last time… He was much further away from home, and Pony only had the memories of… maybe two? three? weeks before he’d started here again.

Ponyboy yelped when someone tackled him, hissing as he felt his arm burn from the concrete that he hit. That was going to hurt like a bitch later. There was a surge of panic once that thought had left his mind, he was surrounded, again, and someone was sitting on his chest again, and people were holding him down.

“You’re gonna regret that, greaser.” Ponyboy glared, swallowing as he tried to get free. For a moment, he’d nearly gotten free, even nearly throwing the Soc sitting on top of him off, but getting slugged wasn’t something that Ponyboy had a lot of experience with. Ignoring his memories of what he knew to be the future, this was the first time he’d ever been jumped. The Socs tightened up their grip on him, and he was slugged a couple more times before they pulled a blade on him.

Ponyboy froze, knowing just by the buildings they were around that he was too far away to scream for his brothers. Not this time, at least. He’d gotten away with a couple hits to the face and a cut to the neck, just under his jaw, the last time. What were they going to do this time? What injuries was he going to have that he would have to either play off, or just tell his brother’s he’d been jumped.

He could probably imagine what his oldest brother would say about him paying attention to his surroundings, about his head being in the clouds, and if he’d been more aware then it wouldn’t have happened. But Ponyboy knew that no matter what, getting jumped was absolutely going to happen, whether Ponyboy had run or not.

“I think he needs a haircut, don’t you?” One of the Socs laughed, a cruel sounding one that made Ponyboy’s skin crawl.

“No.” Ponyboy uttered, glaring and trying to jerk his arms, or at the very least one of his arms, out of the tight hold the Socs had on him. Five to one. It was never a fair fight to begin with, and Ponyboy didn’t even have his blade on him. No, that was at home, hidden in a drawer next to… no that wasn’t right.

“No? Oh… But I think you do grease.” The one sitting on top of him pressed the blade just up under his chin. “I think that haircut oughta start just below the chin.” Ponyboy knew that a deeper breath than the shallow ones he was already taking would cut his neck. A swallow to push back the bundle of nerves would hurt him too…

Like the switch that was digging partially into his back from where it was clipped to his jeans. His blade wasn’t in the drawer of the nightstand beside the bed because… because Ponyboy was back in time, back to the day before Bob’s death and the reason that Johnny was dead. He had no reason yet to not carry a blade for protection, he had no reason to get sick at the sight of a bit of blood on the edge of a reflective edge.

Not yet at least.

“I really don’t thi-” Ponyboy was slugged again, his cheek was really starting to hurt, and there was a feeling of helplessness building. It felt suspiciously like crying, and that just wasn’t something that greaser’s did. He had no doubt that his cheek was going to be bruised, would probably bruise overnight at the very least, and would be a dark purple by morning. It would last a week or two.

Ponyboy took a moment to wonder why his neck was stinging before realizing that the blade had dug a little into his neck when he’d been hit. He swallowed, no point in trying to avoid injury if he was already injured, right? He wanted to say something, something witty as the Socs laughed at him, already planning what they were going to do to him out loud.

And maybe Darry had a point in saying that Ponyboy never thought things through, for all the time he spent in his head. And Ponyboy really, really, didn’t want to get into a row with his oldest brother, not about not thinking, not again. They’d just been repairing their relationship before all this happened. But Ponyboy was panicking, and there was that fear of madras again and the fancy cars and the Socs who would get away with it all.

“God damn it, stop fighting already.” Ponyboy hadn’t even realized he was thrashing about, even with a knife at his neck and his arms and legs being held down and the weight of the Soc on his chest. And there was a handkerchief being shoved in his mouth as he went to retort, probably for the best. He would only piss them off more than they already were.

“Cut his hair, cut his hair!” One of the Socs called out, laughing before there was a burning feel coming from his leg. Ponyboy tried to scream, jerking his head to the side as he tried to get his feet free at the very least.

“Keep him still damn it!” The leader called back, “I’m not trying to kill him.” Really? Ponyboy thought that he really was. There was a scoff, and suddenly one of Ponyboy’s legs were free and he was jerking, trying to throw the leader off of his chest. There was a hand in his hair, and the blade was on his cheek, and fuck. Someone had kicked him in the head, not with the toe of their boot like in the rumble… but with the sole of their shoe, but Pony was pinned to concrete, his head throbbed wildly.

“Fucking finally.” Ponyboy tried to spit the handkerchief out at the very least. He could remember the night Bob died, how Ponyboy had spat at them. He’d wanted to spit at these Socs too, so it was probably a good thing that they had gagged him.

He’d probably end up beaten unconscious like Johnny had been.

He groaned when a kick landed at his hip, his leg was burning and there was a burning in his arm too now, more than before at least. He was hit a couple more times, and there were still hands in his hair. Ponyboy wanted to scream, because his neck stung, and there was a burning in his leg, and his arm hurt like a bitch, and he no doubt was scraped up and bruised.

The guy on top of him got off him, laughing at something one of his friends had said, or done maybe, before there was a kick to his gut. Pony’s head spun, and yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have tried or even thought about provoking them. Maybe this was punishment for running when they have a car and he didn’t.

Ponyboy felt no restraints on him, and he tried to push himself up, spitting out the handkerchief. He opened his mouth to say something when someone kicked him in the chest. Ponyboy tried to get up again, there was a cut to his upper arm, Ponyboy had felt it. He was kicked back down to an uproar of laughter real quick, and his head was left throbbing as the Socs continued to circle him, kicking him or cutting him at random.

Now, Ponyboy wasn’t a lousy fighter, that much he knew he had going for him. He could hold his own in a rumble just fine; even better if he had Johnny at his side. The two of them normally teamed up to take down Socs in a rumble anyways. They just knew each other well, and always kept an eye on the other while in a fight.

And Ponyboy had his head kicked twice, and everything was spinning a little, and his arms stung and one of them was burning from the scrapes going up the back of his arm… and all he could think about was how he wanted his brothers. He wanted to go home and not leave the house. He wanted Johnny to just move in with them like Darry had been trying to get Johnny to do.

Ponyboy heard someone shout, and there was a sting at the back of his neck as he was kicked in the upper back. Ponyboy cursed when his chin hit the ground, and he tilted his head so that his forehead rested against the ground. He didn’t try to get back up, and there were pounding feet and calls of his name.

He groaned when someone grabbed him, and it was nearly automatic when he twisted to shove whoever had grabbed him off.

“Ponyboy, Pony, Honey,” Ponyboy forced his eyes open, finding that his breathing was coming a lot faster than it should have been. He’d been beat up worse than this before, why was it suddenly an issue for him now? “Oh Ponyboy, honey,” Ponyboy felt himself get pulled against Soda’s chest, not that he recognized his brother. “They ain’t gonna hurt you no more.” Sodapop’s voice had been real quiet, and Ponyboy couldn’t tell if it was from his own mental space, or if Soda was just being real quiet on his own. It wasn’t hard to hear the gang yelling and cussing out the Socs who’d already peeled off, so Pony decided that it was just Sodapop being quiet.

“Damn, is the kid okay?” Pony recognized Two-Bit’s voice, the normally joking Greaser sounded uncharacteristically serious, which wasn’t right. Even in Pony’s memories, Two-Bit had been joking even after Pony had been jumped. He had asked Pony what he thought about Two becoming his own bodyguard while laughing.

Ponyboy’s breathing was still uneven, and he had the urge to cry even though he’d probably be judged for it. This wasn’t the worst that Ponyboy’s ever been hurt… But that wasn’t the case anymore, was it? He’d not been in the rumble that he had most recent in his memory, not yet. He’d not been through the fire, or the jumping that led to him almost drowning and Bob’s death.

“Come on, Pony, let’s get you home.” That was Darry, and Pony could only nod. He could feel extra hands on him, and he was hauled to his feet. He was unsteady and he leaned heavily on Soda, his head throbbing. He wished he could take a nap, maybe he could sleep until morning, though he was also pretty sure he had a concussion too.

“What did they do to him? Anyone catch ‘em?” Ponyboy wasn’t sure if that was Steve or if that had been Dally, or maybe Two-Bit again. All he was trying to focus on was putting one foot in front of the other and to not lean too heavily on Sodapop.

He could tell just from the way that Soda was walking that he might have pulled a muscle or something. Had he missed that last time? Maybe… Sodapop was holding himself up the same way Darry was, and maybe that was just from taking after Darry a little, but Pony had a nagging feeling it wasn’t.

Darry was ahead of all of the group a little, taking lead as he always did. So it was no surprise to Ponyboy when Johnny came up on the other side of him, a hand resting slightly on Pony’s wrist. A glance over, and there was a worried look in Johnny’s eyes, something that overtook the nervousness and suspicion that had been permanently stuck there for the last four months.

Ponyboy felt a jolt of guilt, but also… Ponyboy wanted to cry for an entirely different reason now. Johnny. Alive and well, and… Ponyboy turned his head away after giving a brief smile. He was okay, he had to be okay. Sure, his head was killing him, but that would be gone by morning, of that Pony was sure of.

But now Ponyboy had a new reason that he wanted to cry, and even more of a reason to not let himself.

“Come on little buddy, let’s go inside.” Soda spoke quietly, lightly pushing Ponyboy. He had no idea when they’d gotten back to the house, but it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he slumped forwards just slightly. He followed after Sodapop, who’d disappeared inside the house after Darry, barely stopping himself from going to his room to cry.

He was surprised Darry hadn’t started drilling him already; Why was he alone, why didn’t he ask someone to go with him, and why didn’t Pony think before doing any of it. He could nearly remember the last time… Pony swallowed as Johnny grabbed his wrist this time, pulling him off towards the bathroom.

Right, Ponyboy was injured. Which should have been more alarming to Pony than it was. He was pretty sure he was in some sort of shock from seeing Johnny and Dally again. That had to be it, he was sure of it. There’s no way that he just wasn’t feeling the pain. But he’d grieved his friends… but to his memories, they’d been dead. He’d seen them both die, he was there both times.

Maybe Ponyboy was more overwhelmed than he thought.

“Come on, Pony, let’s get you cleaned up.” Johnny uttered quietly as the gang spread out amongst the living room. Ponyboy only nodded, letting Johnny push him onto the toilet seat, the lid having been dropped down, and Ponyboy’s head dropped slightly as Sodapop appeared with the first aid kid.

Ponyboy wasn't even sure where they kept that, but maybe he could figure that out. At some point maybe.

Ponyboy knew he was worrying people with how quiet he is, and normally he was pretty quiet around the gang, but this was far more than what either side of this was used to. He felt numb as Sodapop and Johnny both helped him with the cuts on his arms, and he knew there was at least one on his shoulder. He didn’t want them to see the amount of bruises that Ponyboy could probably guess were already forming.

Hell, he didn’t even want to see them himself.

He could hear Sodapop cussing out the Socs whenever he left the bathroom to go get something, though maybe he just didn’t like to see Ponyboy so injured, with how often he left the bathroom. And there were a couple times, when he felt aware enough to look around, that he found Two-Bit or Steve or even Dally at the doorway, checking up on him as more bandages were wrapped around his arms. And a pretty big spot on his leg, too. He supposed that was what the burning on his leg was. A couple burns and a large gash.

Ponyboy vaguely heard Sodapop tell Darry that he was surprised that Pony had managed to walk home without help. Ponyboy hadn’t been aware that it was that bad, but maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, he had been trying to kick them Socs when they had him pinned.

“Come on, focus a little.” Johnny uttered, and Ponyboy blinked a couple times, finding Johnny with furrowed eyebrows. “Or cry or something, Ponyboy, you’re scaring me.” Ponyboy didn’t know why, or how, he was scaring Johnny. He was a little banged up, but he’d be mostly fine by morning. Sure there was gonna be a lot of pain doing too much tomorrow, but that wasn’t what had Ponyboy worried. He wasn’t going to cry neither, not when Johnny had been hurt far worse than Pony now.

Ponyboy could still remember exactly how hard Johnny had cried, it had scared Pony then.

“I’m…”

“If you say fine I’m gonna smack you.” Ponyoby shut his mouth, staring at Johnny a little wide eyed, startled. Johnny didn’t talk back to no one, especially not since the Socs… Ponyboy swallowed and nodded his head, wincing and bringing a hand up to his head almost instinctively. “What happened?”

“They kicked me in the head, twice at least.” Pony answered him. Sodapop, on his way back into the room, made a noise of anger. It almost sounded like he wanted to hunt down the Socs that did this and get back at them. But Ponyboy knew that it wouldn’t do no good. Sodapop would sooner be thrown in jail than the Socs for nearly any reason.

“Kid got kicked in the head?” Dally was back at the doorway, his voice carrying around the living room no doubt. That suspicion was only confirmed when Ponyboy heard the other three talking about it. “Just why did they jump you?”

“I don’t know. Was just walking back from the movie house when they tried to jump me, I took off running and they caught up to me.” Ponyboy responded, and he knew that Darry had heard him. How couldn’t he have, but Darry didn’t appear in the doorway to scold him or play 20 questions. “Tackled me and I hit my head…”

“And they kicked you in the head twice after?” Soda sounded aghast, maybe. Ponyboy didn’t know, but Soda was definitely horrified, and pissed off. Ponyboy nodded, wincing when he had to stand up. He had to get changed, and honestly…

Pony wanted a moment to himself, in his and Soda’s room, where he could break down and just cry for a minute. He also needed to change, and he couldn’t do that if everyone was in the bathroom with him. Not that they weren’t all used to that by now. Pony could remember with startling clarity the amount of times Soda had walked out in only a towel wrapped around his waist with the gang in the living room. Jokes about Soda needing clothes being thrown around afterwards, especially if Soda was supposed to be getting ready for work. And in the summers, most of them went shirtless anyways.

“Okay, give him space, everyone back out, go.” Sodapop must have been able to sense that Pony wasn’t comfortable, and shooed everyone away. Ponyboy was almost embarrassed when he’d seen Two-Bit get pushed even. He’d quickly made his way to his and Soda’s room, shutting the door behind him and taking a deep breath. He needed to change clothes, and maybe go back to the bathroom and check that his hair didn’t actually get cut. Maybe Ponyboy had gotten lucky, because none of the gang had mentioned his hair. But maybe he hadn’t and the gang just didn’t want to say anything.

Not that Steve would hold back against him, Ponyboy couldn’t remember a time when he’d actually noticed Steve being worried about him. The two of them fought too much, and Ponyboy knew that Steve just saw him as a tag-along-kid whenever he went anywhere with Sodapop. But it wasn’t Ponyboy’s fault that Soda would invite him alone whenever Steve and Soda weren’t with their girlfriends.

Ponyboy shook his head, trying to clear his mind as he moved quickly around their room, changing and hiding the blade away in the bedside drawer, next to a small sketchbook. The sketchbook was half the size of one of his notebooks, and it was where Ponyboy drew all the softer things. Clouds, trees, flowers, a couple animals playing in the yard; namely squirrels. Sometimes he even drew out his dreams.

And safely tucked away at the back of the sketchbook, was a picture of their family from before. Before their parents' accident that took them away from the brothers. From before Darry had too much thrown on his shoulders, with trying to keep Sodapop and Ponyboy out of a boys home. Before everything had gone to shit in a handbasket and delivered with a bow.

Ponyboy shut the drawer a little harder than necessary, he knew he did. But no one came to check on him. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, letting himself hunch over as he took a deep breath. The adrenaline had left him by now, and he could feel just how bad his leg hurt and his head was absolutely killing him, and his shoulder too.

He sighed as he pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around and resting his head against his knees. If he took any longer than he was, he knew Sodapop or Darry would come check on him. But he couldn’t help it.

He was back in time, Johnny and Dally were alive, and Ponyboy could fix things. He could fix everything that had gone wrong, making sure that his memories never happened. That what happened last time didn’t happen. He wouldn’t talk with Cherry Valance, or at least he wouldn’t try any sort of flirting with her.

Maybe he could convince Two-Bit to let the girls call their parents to get them from the movies, or maybe he just wouldn’t go to the movies. Maybe if he didn’t go to the movies none of what happened would happen. But what if Johnny and Two-Bit still ended up tangling with Cherry and Marcia? Maybe Ponyboy wouldn’t go to the lot then, or maybe he could convince Johnny to stay at the house with them, Darry and Soda certainly wouldn’t mind one bit. They left the door unlocked for a reason.

Ponyboy flinched when the door opened, Sodapop peeking his head in with worry on his face. It was then that he realized his face was wet too, and he immediately tried to wipe away the tears that had fallen without his knowledge or permission. He swallowed as he hid his face against his knees again. Trying desperately to get himself under control. He was a greaser, he was supposed to be tough.

“Oh, Pony.” Sodapop came into the room, shutting the door behind him. “You can cry, it’s okay to cry, Pony.” He told him, and Pony only shook his head as his brother sat down next to him, pulling Ponyboy to lean against him. “It’s okay to cry.” Ponyboy’s shoulders were shaking already, and the breath he took in next was way to shakey for Pony’s liking.

“I don’t-, I shouldn’t-” Ponyboy cut himself off both times and Sodapop only held him a little tighter. He wanted to push Sodapop off of him, but Ponyboy knew he wouldn’t have the strength. Not while Sodapop was as worried as he was, at least. And Ponyboy was too emotional to even try.

He needed this hug, this reassurance that everything was okay, just as much as Sodapop did.

[greeksorceress]

no ‘cause i will stay until 3am awake thinking about how johnny cade’s death shook me so much when i first read about it and how much it continues to hurt. because when i think about it, i can’t help but feel like he was literally robbed of his life, and we were robbed of seeing him and ponyboy grow up together and stay together no matter what. 

can’t stop thinking about how ponyboy never got to see johnny’s slow but sure recovery and how johnny missed all the support and love from the gang and all the all-nighters they all pulled thinking that they could lose johnny at any moment given if they so much dared to close their eyes. 

we missed ponyboy reading book after book for months to keep johnny company, to keep him motivated, to keep him away from intrusive thoughts and harmful situations. we never got to see the late nights they stayed up smoking and trying to not talk about the trauma and pain they went through during those damned days and bringing up the topic at all costs altogether. 

we never got to see johnny getting better and dally feeling reassured about that, about the fact that the both of them are there and are okay and they'll keep moving forward one way or another. we couldn’t get to see johnny and pony graduating and pony packing his bags to go to college to another state and johnny and him embracing by the train not as a goodbye but as a ‘we’re gonna see each other in three months, don’t cry’. 

 johnny could never take his chance at making a life for himself and learning to love his own persona, moving away from his parents with the help of the gang and start working to earn his own money and feeling accomplished and cherished by his friends and finally feeling like he’s worth all he’s getting. 

and we never got to see pony and him exchanging letters with lengthy updates and johnny giving him a little piece of the gang in each folded piece of paper he sent in pony’s way, and the awaited reunions by the station house during christmas or spring break or summer holidays. 

and what hurts the most, irrevocably, is that nobody got to see johnny grow up and fall in love and make new friendships and live adventures as well as mundane moments in life and have his own path to follow freely. and yes, this is what pains me the most when i think about it, that the gang and us never got to see johnny having a future, nobody got to see johnny growing up. 

and i think about what we could have gotten after the events of the book, about pony growing up without his best friend and missing all the things they could have done and become, and missing those letters and those reunions and those books and those stories. and maybe he would have fulfilled his wishes and would have got himself a college degree and a nice job and a family of his own one day, with the memories of who no longer were there anymore falling upon him as a foggy cluster, that one denim jacket never used again and the lot always empty and cold.

[staygold-ponyboycurtis]

A Semester Early

request: Pony goes on a winter walk, revisiting his hometown a year after college. He is happier now. 

-

I loved this prompt, and wish I had someone to credit it for, but it was sent anonymously. it was so much fun to write! of course, a one-shot about Ponyboy can’t be written without some angst in there, right? ;) 

ENJOY. let me know what you think!!! 

-

There’s something to be said for the feeling of outgrowing a place. I decided that was it. That was the feeling I’ve felt ever since returning home from college. I hadn’t been home for this long since I was eighteen years old. After graduating a semester early a few weeks ago, Darry managed to talk me into coming home for a few months. I hemmed and hawed about it - living in a city like New York has a way of liberating you in the same way that a small town in Oklahoma can make you feel too small - but finally conceded defeat and agreed to move back in with him and Soda before I found a job. 

It wasn’t the idea of seeing them that deterred me from returning home. Lord knows my arm doesn’t need to be twisted to find an excuse to see Sodapop, Darry, and the gang. It was the idea of not wanting to leave again. Of getting too comfortable for my own good, I guess. 

Before I could dwell too long on the irrational doom I’ve felt since I walked in the door, I had to admit that it was good to be back home. Where I was just Ponyboy. Where everyone knew embarrassing stories about me and knew how I liked my eggs cooked and I never had to remind them of anything about myself. I didn’t have to make myself look cool or nuanced in their presence. They knew who I was. They loved me for who I was.

Darry has all the Christmas decorations sitting in boxes scattered on the floor when I walk in. Him and Soda had refused to decorate without me the past few years. It was something we did together and a tradition that meant even more for him to continue since mom and dad were gone. 

Our mother loved Christmas. I try my best not to tear up when I notice that Darry has her Loretta Lynn Christmas album sitting on top of the record player, waiting for us to play it and sit in bittersweet silence like we’ve done every year. Decorating for Christmas reminds me of her the most, I’ve decided. 

I couldn’t believe this was almost the tenth Christmas without them. It feels like a lifetime.

When I set foot into my childhood bedroom, I was overwhelmed with nostalgia, like I always am. Nothing changes. Not that I expected it to, but it was like walking through a museum. Back at school, I felt like a nomad. I never really had a place to call my own in New York. I was in a different apartment every few months, and none of them were satisfactory, but I had learned to regard it as charm. Perhaps Sodapop knew this, because he always made sure to leave everything as I had it from the last time I had been there.

“I didn’t want to move anything,” Soda said, slinging an arm over my shoulder sweetly, though my height had finally crept beyond his. “I wanted to make sure you’d recognize the place when you finally came back.”

“I guess you guys really do love me,” I said with a chuckle. 

“Always, kiddo,” he said, messing with my hair. 

The gang - or what’s left of it - piles in our small kitchen for “family dinner”, as Two-Bit lovingly referred to it. Darry made us spaghetti - another favorite of mine. He had improved his cooking tenfold since I’ve been gone, I remark.

“It’s that girl of his,” Sodapop says with a sly smirk. I blush. Darry was secretive about his love life. More secretive than me, which was saying something. “She’s taught him a thing or two.”

“And not just in the kitchen,” Two-Bit adds with an immature, clownish smile on his face, never missing an opportunity for an impish euphemism. 

Darry shoots him a look that conveys pure annoyance and deadly threat. I knew that look all too well. I’m pretty sure Darry invented that look for me.

“What?” Two-Bit asks innocently. “She taught him how to clean, too.”

We all break into laughter. “Asshole,” Darry says under his breath.

“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend,” I say. 

“Don’t sweat it, Pone,” Soda says. “He didn’t tell me either. I picked up the phone one day when she called about a date with him. I just about dropped dead right then and there.”

I blush, sheepish at the thought of Darry caring about anyone else other than us. As charismatic as he is, Darry is sometimes more shy than I am about girls.  

We fall into our normal rhythm of camaraderie quickly at dinner. It never takes long for me to fall back in line with the gang, catching up on their stories and mine from the last time we were together. Though Tulsa no longer feels the way it used to for me, the gang has. I know they’re the only reason I’d ever come back to this place.

“Gee, Pony,” Two-Bit says while we’re cleaning up the table. “Every time you visit, you seem smarter.”

“Smarter?” I ask.

“‘Ya know… cooler. Different, in a good way.”

“I think the word he’s looking for is ’sophisticated’,” Darry says, slinging the dish towel over his shoulder. “A college scholar.” He smiles at me proudly.

“Thanks,” I say almost inaudibly. It’s surely a compliment, but it makes chills run up my spine. I’m not sure why. 

Before we begin decorating, I head towards the door, grabbing my coat. 

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go for a walk,” I say, reaching for the door knob. “To… clear my head.”

“You okay, kiddo?” Darry asks, puzzled. “It’s 8 o’clock at night.”

“I’m okay,” I say. “Just trying to take it all in.”

He looks at Sodapop, confused. “Do you want me to go with you, buddy?” Sodapop asks. 

I shake my head vehemently. “I’m fine, really,” I say. “I just want to walk around like I used to.” 

Darry shrugs. “Don’t be gone for too long. Soda can barely wait to put up the stockings.”

I chuckle, a bit emptily. “Roger that.”

The cold air fills my warm lungs with a shock. New York winters are much more brutal than in Oklahoma. The snow piles high, and it isn’t as picturesque as you see in the movies, either. Just a lot of brown and grey slush. One year, a few of my friends and I went Upstate to go skiing, and that was really nice, though.

I make my way down the sidewalk, not really believing that I’m actually home. I mean, I’ve been home multiple times before now. But it feels different now, because another stage of my life is finished, another chapter closed. And I didn’t think I would be living with my brothers forever or cooped up in Tulsa for the rest of my life, but I’m finally realizing that life is changing. I just can’t realize why I’m bothered so much by it. I think I realize things too late.  

I make my way around the block, lost in thought. I notice some of our neighbors have hung Christmas decorations outside their houses. They decorate the same exact way every year, as Darry does, and it makes me feel a bit nostalgic. Dad used to drive us around in his old truck to look at all the lights in our neighborhood. We never really had money to spend on visiting the light displays on the better side of town, but we wouldn’t have ever known it. This was just as fun.

I realize that the perpetual feeling of a broken heart during Christmastime doesn’t do much for my sadness right now. 

I stop at a forelorn house at the end of our street, on the corner. It’s a small yellow house, a bit less dilapidated than ours. Typically adorned with all types of big, ceramic lights this time of year, the house sits solemnly, vacant and dark. I stare at it a bit, the writer in me trying to make a metaphor out of its image.

“Mrs. Friedman died two months ago,” I hear a voice behind me. “Her house has been empty ever since.” 

“You followed me,” I say, more as a statement than a question.

“I could tell something was bothering you,” Sodapop says.

I laugh, a little curtly. “You can always tell.”

“Of course I can,” he smiles. "And I didn’t want you to be out here alone.”

“You didn’t tell me Mrs. Friedman died,” I say, a bit offended. “She cooked us meals every week after mom and dad died. She always gave us her son’s old clothes, too, remember?”

“I know,” Soda says. “Darry and I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You thought I’d be upset?”

Soda looks at me. “You’re a little bit more sentimental than the rest of us.”

I scoff. “She was our neighbor for years. Did you go to her funeral?”

“Of course,” Sodapop says. “'Woulda been silly for you to come all the way home for a 100-year-old woman’s funeral, though. Don’tcha think?”

“I guess."

We sit in silence for a few moments, and I focus on our breath in the air. It’s white, like cigarette smoke. I laugh a bit in my mind, reminiscing on the period of time where I couldn’t go more than fifteen minutes without smoking. It’s been nearly three years since I’ve quit.

“What’s up, Pone?” Soda finally asks. “What’s wrong?" I give him a look.

“What?” he says. “I can see right through you.”

I pause for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly it is.

“It’s just… I always had an excuse. I had New York. I had college. I knew I was leaving, but I always knew I would come back. And four years seemed so far away,” I say. “Now I’m not sure there’s a place for me here anymore. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Well… no,” Soda says. “Because that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Pone. There’s always gonna be a place for you here. This is your home. Don’t you know that?”

I roll my eyes. “I mean, it’s never going to be like it was. We’re never going to be living under the same roof as one another. Hell, I don’t even know where I’m going next. But it’ll never just be all of us together again. I feel like we’re losing another part of the gang for good, but that part is me. And it feels like….”

“It feels like Dal and Johnny all over again.” 

“Kinda.”

Sodapop pauses for a moment, thinking about this. Though he isn’t the most articulate, he’s certainly the most insightful. 

“Wanna know how I see it?” Sodapop asks.

I nod. “Of course.”

“You’re twenty-two years old. You graduated college at the top of your class. You have job offers all over the country. That’s something to be proud of, Pone. That doesn’t happen for just anyone. Hell, it didn’t happen for me and Darry. It won’t happen for Steve or Two-Bit. It didn’t happen for Dally or Johnny. You should be grateful you are where you are.”

“Oh, come on…” I say. “I didn’t mean it like that-"

“No, listen,” Sodapop says. "You think you should be feelin’ guilty about leaving, but you shouldn’t be. Me, Darry, the gang, even mom and dad would want you getting the hell out of this pokey ‘ol town,” he says with a laugh. “It’s all we’ve ever wanted for you.” 

“I know that. I’m thankful for that.”

“Hell of a way of showin’ it,” Soda says jokingly.

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” I say. “I always figured you and Darry would think I left you guys behind or somethin’. I never wanted you to think that.”

“C’mon, Pone. We’d never think that. We’ve worked so hard to help you make somethin’ of yourself. We’re real proud.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Thanks for knocking some sense into me.”

“You know, you’re afraid of changin’, but that’s one thing that will never change about you,” he says as we begin to walk back to the house. “You’ll always need your big brothers to help you see what’s right in front of you.”

“You’re right about that,” I say. 

“And don’t think you’ll never come back here to visit the gang,” he says. “We’ll drag you back here if it’s the last thing we do. You’ll know where to find us.”

“You’re right,” I say. “I’ll never be able to get away from you guys."

“Exactly,” he says. “Now, can we go back and decorate for Christmas? Please? I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

“Yeah,” I say with a chuckle. “Let’s go."

-

I really could’ve written this conversation forever, but I wanted to keep it short and sweet. Let me know what you think!!!

P.S. if you have any one-shot requests, my ask is always open. I love when you all send in your ideas :)

P.P.S. if you’d like to write a review, this one-shot (along with my other writing) is also posted to my fanfiction.net account, which is linked here 🖤

[disasterinadress97]

Dallas Winston Headcannons nobody asked for 🤷🏻‍♀️

Trigger warning ⚠️

A bit of nsfw in there too

Pre Tulsa, life in New York

• His mom was a drug addict and had Bipolar 1 disorder

• He has/had 4 siblings, an older brother (six years older) from his moms previous relationship, older sister (five years older) from his dads past relationship, a twin brother (who was trans ftm) and a little sister (eight years younger than him)

• He was always the one to take care of his mom during her depressive episodes when she wouldn’t leave her bed.

• She often left days-weeks at a time when she was in a manic state

• He practically raises his baby sister, she died when she was four due to cancer

• That was when he decided he hates kids cause they always reminded him of her

• he was always stealing and dealing to get his twin brother anything to help his body dismorphia and feel more comfortable in his body

• His mom often sold his body and his brother’s to her drug dealer when they couldn’t afford drugs (his dad did not know this at the time)

• his dad was actually a good dad till their mom walked out on them when he was 9, that was when he started drinking and abused Dallas because ‘you fuckin look so much like her’

• He was apart of two gangs in New York, one of which was a Drag Queen gang

• The one Queen lived beside him and always heard fighting, she took him under her wing and after his mom left they were practically the ones who raised him and his little sister

• the two older siblings and his twin left a little while after their mom did, that was when he learned you can’t trust anyone

• you bet your ass this boy dressed in drag with his queens, a master with make up, can’t change my mind

• can walk in high heels/‘stripper shoes’ like no other!

• started selling his body to strangers for money after his mom left and his dad started drinking to afford to feed his sister and himself

• His other gang was a bunch of stereotypical big mean, manly gang members

• He started dating a guy from said gang, this guy was hella abusive, controlling and manipulative. Also was twice Dal’s age

• when Dallas left New York he broke up with him and the guy beat the shit out of him and burned him with a poker ‘so you’ll never forget me’

In Tulsa/present?

• has some severe PTSD, also suffers from abandonment issues, anxiety, depression and Bipolar 2 disorder

• Loves him some Rupauls drag race, reminds him of his Queens and how much he misses them

• Acts so tough and mean because In New York he was tough and knew it but was always seen as the ‘little kid’ so going to Tulsa that wasn’t gonna happen again

• first people he came out to about being bi was Mr and Mrs Curtis

• they also found out he was selling his body for rent/food money and that was when they realised how much they care about him

• him and Mrs. Curtis were super close, she was the closest thing he had to a real mom.

• He is actually so soft behind the tough guy act

• cuddles? All the time

• is a total brat sub/bottom don’t @ me

• the gang found out about his Drag Queen past when he accidentally sent pony the wrong photo from his phone ‘you tell them you die!’

• he obviously blabbed

• everyone was shook.

• Johnny was amazed because ‘he’s so tough but so pretty!’

• two bit laughed but lowkey was impressed with Dallys confidence to do that

• Steve was just ‘if it makes him nicer and happier than whateva’

• you already know soda begged him to do his make up let’s ge honest

• Darrel was quiet but was also a good dad and was like ‘as long as it keeps him out of jail we will always love him’

• he was touched but also super embarrassed the gang found out about it, but was thankful they were cool with it

• gang 100% harassed him to wear drag for them Atleast once

• one day dallas brought his make up and shoes over, he did his and soda’s make up and wore his shoes and the gang was shook! ‘How can you walk in those?! So easily??’ ‘He looks prettier than half the girls at school!’

• all the support from the gang!

• Dallas actually reads a lot like pony does but doesn’t talk about it incase he gets made fun of for the books he likes

• is also really smart but plays dumb

• this boy LOVES vampires, they’re his guilty pleasure. We talking the vampire chronicles, the vampire diaries, true blood, he even liked the twilight books but will never tell a soul!

Dating headcanons!

General:

• cuddles all the time

• is very insecure and gets jealous easy

• surprisingly isn’t violent or aggressive when jealous, he’s scared if he is they will leave

• plot twist! Sylvia was actually a beard so Soc’s and other gangs wouldn’t know he’s bi

• they only said she cheated cause she was caught with another dude. The hate and hurt was all an act

• is a brat so will tease his dom in public subtly but so much

• is super clingy

• wants to be together all the time

• always needs reassurance ‘are you sure you’re still happy? Like I didn’t do anything wrong?’ ‘No, babe I love you’. ‘Oh okay, are you sure tho?’ 24/7

Johnny

• always getting Johnny to stay at bucks or his dads when his dad isn’t home so Johnny is safe

• feeding this boy all the time!

• when he hears dal is a bottom Johnny is shook but surpringly into a ‘daddy’ role

• drive in dates whenever they can

• they watch the stars a lot

• when Dallas is super anxious he picks at his nails a lot and Johnny holds his hands to help him feel a bit at ease

• when Dallas is in a manic state Johnny follows him anywhere he goes. Parties, fights, anything. He just wants to make sure he doesn’t get jailed again or hurt

• Johnny highkey loves when Dallas dresses in drag ‘you’re just so confident and hot!’

Steve

• watches while Steve works on his cars, he likes seeing Steve so interested and content

• when either of them fight with their dads they drive around all night and talk. They are both quiet about feelings usually but wanna be there for each other

• hangs around the DX while Steve and soda work

• both don’t say a lot normally but are always touching each other

• when Dallas is in a depressive episode Steve will come to bucks and just lay with him for hours

• They talk about both their moms walking out on them sometimes. They both swear if they ever met these women there would be hell to pay ‘how could she abandon this beautiful person?’

Soda

• all the spooning you could ask for

• Dallas is always complimenting him. ‘You’re so pretty wtf’

• on the anniversary of sodas parents death Dallas buys him flowers and they go to their graves

• when Dallas doesn’t answer his phone Soda highkey panics ‘what if he’s hurt?! What if he’s in jail ahain?’

• Dallas always feels bad about this and tries to make it up to him

• soda is always reminding Dallas he’s not alone and he loves him

• when soda really misses his mom Dallas and him talk about some of their favourite memories with her. Soda is still sad but it makes him a little happier knowing how much she cared about him and the one he loves so much

Two bit

• jokes 24/7

• when the gang isn’t around Dallas only calls him Keith or babe

• two doesn’t usually like his name but when Dallas says it he hates it a little less every time

• two bits mom wasn’t a fan of Dallas at first but after a while and gets to know him she loves him so much ‘mom I’m home’ ‘where is dallas’ ‘idk’ ‘tell him to come over I’m making his favourite dish’

• when two bit gets jealous or feels Dallas is he always puts his arm around his waist or kissing him so the person gets the hint

• twos little sister looks up to their relationship a lot and loves how happy her brother is

• two doesn’t stop drinking but slows down on it when Dallas mentions once it worries him sometimes

• Dallas and twos little sister get close really fast. Dallas is always giving her advice and one day brings her some old make up of his and she loves it!

• two doesn’t understand why dallas seems a little sad after times like these until one day dallas tells him about his little sister and how two should spend more time with her, ‘just in case something happens. I don’t want you to regret anything like I do’

• two makes a point to spend more time together the three of them after that

Pony

• they read together sometimes

• Dallas will go to literally any movie if pony is interested

• picks pony up from school everyday

• if Dallas gets arrested you know pony is lecturing him for Atleast a half hour. Dallas just sits there with heart eyes because ‘damn I missed this pain in my ass’

• dates at the Dingo are their Friday night ritual

• they both have terrible nightmares and are always cuddling and comforting eachother after

• Dallas is always saying little things to pony about his relationship with Darrel ‘I know he’s on your case all the time but it’s cause he means well’. Dallas then tells pony about his brothers and sister and how he wishes he could live with them and see them like pony can with Darrel

• pony and dar still fight sometimes after this but never in front of Dallas

Darrel

• they don’t go out a lot for dates but like to watch their favourite shows together (they kick the gang out for a few hours on these nights)

• Darrel brings out the brat in Dallas 24/7 and he teases him all the time until Darrel gets to a point he just looks at him and with a deep voice ‘bedroom now’ and Dallas practically trips over his own feet running to the room

• they are not quiet either! The gang sees them go in Dar’s room and they all groan and leave ASAP

• the gang found out about them when the gang came over and heard Dallas call out ‘daddy!’ And never let him live it down ‘how’s it going daddy’s boy’ ‘I will literally kill you two bitch’

• Darrel never celebrates his birthday after his parents die and Dallas puts an end to that so fast. He goes all out, flowers, presents, sexy time. Anything he can do

• always sitting on Darrel’s lap, clinging to him, hugging. All of it. He’s just amazed and thankful he has such a strong and beautiful bf who loves him

• dar once let dallas do make up on him and Darrel borderline didn’t like how good he looked in it

• Dallas got him to experiment in drag and Darrel felt hella empowered. Now they dress up together sometimes. But dar says only Dallas is allowed to see him like that

• this makes dal feel extra special and close to dar and he loves it

Tim

• sarcastism never stops

• Tim is quiet but really protective, he can say whatever he wants about Dallas but once someone says one bad thing they best be ready to square up

• patching eachother up after fights al the time

• they be kinky bitches man!

• after a nightmare Dallas told Tim a little bit about his ex and it took dallas an hour to talk him out of going to New York to kill this man

• Dallas does strip teases for Tim in his stripper shoes on special occasions.

• Tim didn’t tease him for his make up or anything, he actually found it real pretty on him

• Tim never lets him stay at his own place or bucks after they get together.

• Tim is Demi sexual

• Dallas heard his ex was released out of prison and has a sever panic attack. Tim was right there reassuring him ‘babe I’m right here. No ones gonna hurt you’.

• dals mom comes to town and Tim got Angela and her friends to give her a ‘Tulsa greeting’. Needless to say she left as soon as she came

This was so long and horrible I’m sorry

Special thanks to @sunlitcigars for helping with some ideas and encouraging me to post these

[imlostinsantacarla]

How do the gang (individually) react to a SO who's affectionate and supportive

heya hun! i’m so glad you’ve requested this, it was fun to write. i added tim and curly too bc they deserve some love also. i hope that you like what i came up with! - admin kat 🌙❣

HOW THE GANG REACT TO HAVING A S/O WHO’S AFFECTIONATE AND SUPPORTIVE:

Darry: doesn’t always seem like it but he doesn’t ever take your affection and support for granted, although he may come across as cold. he’s a tad bit overwhelmed when he comes home and you plaster yourself to him like glue, he can even appear irritated but he knows that you’re just showing you love him in the only way you know best. he just wishes that you’d give him a minute to get through the door and shower first before you latch onto him. nevertheless, darry is genuinely over the moon when you support him, his brothers and the gang. his hearts wells up like the grinch when he finds the meaning of christmas! it’s in the little things like when you patch steve and soda up after they’ve gotten into a fight with soc’s. helping ponyboy and johnnycake study on the living room floor. talking dal out of some real dumb shit. even by sitting at the kitchen table with him and sifting through all the bills. he turns into the biggest sucker ever when you do this stuff. all the little things you do never get’s overlooked by him. it definitely helps ease his stress knowing that his partner supports him no matter what.

Sodapop: genuinely loves you even more for both of these endearing qualities, if that’s even logically possible??? he loves that your affection and attention is on him 25/7 and when you give it to him... boii is like !!!!!!!!!!!!!! he just knows you love him so much and he’s so excited by it. your support really reinforces it all the more if i’m honest. soda actually balled once about you supporting him bc he opened up to you about a dream of his which was to open up an auto repair shop with steve and you were like “cool stuff man let’s do this!”. and he was believing you’d knock his head in like dar would, but he just was star struck with you. steve had to calm his ass tf down bc soda’s a gREASER AND GREASERS DON’T CRY IDK WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!! but yeah, he thinks he’s so dumb and stuff, but to have you support him and lift him up makes him unbelievably happy. 11/10 a happy boiii.

Ponyboy: totally gets all blushy when you get affectionate with him in front of others (namely the gang) bc they tease tf out of him. those boys never let him live shit down like that. it only makes you pinch his cheeks and wiggle his face in your hands and that’s when two-bit can’t stop laughing and has to tell the others. he’s a bit sour afterwards but there’s no hard feelings. boii is  s o f t  as hell for you and loves your affection and support. you never fail to brighten his day tbh. he wants your attention on him 25/8 like soda and becomes a pouty baby when you don’t give him it. and your support? *chef kiss* makes his whole world better bc despite the fact he’s not tough and all, but more sensitive, you’re there for him through it all. did i mention he get’s butterflies and his heart gallops- pls don’t shoot me it had to be said!

Steve: loves it even when he says he hates it. steve loves your hugs, kisses, the way you play with his hair when you cuddle, you name it. just not when the guys are around. gotta keep up the greaser image *finger guns*. you tend to show up at his work with lunch and he’s got complete heart eyes bc you’re all over him. there’s no way in hell soda lets him live that ish down lmaoo. you support him more emotionally and mentally though, which he’s so grateful for because things with his old man can get pretty bad at times and he needs someone like you to bring his big butt down to earth when he’s all high on anger and frustration. like, he’s super hurt when it comes to his dad, so he’ll be ranting and raving up a storm and you’re listening but bleary eyed bc he woke your ass up as 3 in the gODDAMN MORNING and he’s talking about how his life is so shit and you come out with “well i’m not going anywhere but if you don’t get into my bed and let me sleep i’m gonna beat your ass with my pillow”. he’s stunned? bc first of all, you’re a freaking pip squeak compared to him who can’t even hurt a fly, but there’s another part of him that’s taken aback bc you’ve literally opened up your world and door to him for anytime. would 10/10 recommend this joyful boi.

Two-bit: honestly, can’t seem to get enough of you, particularly your affection, but namely your support. it’s kinda a tie can’t you see?? he’s not even annoyed or abashed when you go heavy on the affection, even in front of the guys, if anything, he’s gloating about it and hanging off of you just as much, if not more! if anyone teases you guys or makes a comment he’s got some snazzy comeback, two’s riddled with them. i swear they fall from his mouth like casual small talk. kinda starts fist fights with steve a lot when he does bc our stevie-boi is a bit sensitive. he literally somehow falls in love with you even more bc you’re supporting him positively to cut down on his drinking, get on with his school work a little more, etc. like how can he possibly deserve this literal angel that is you? he probably cries when you’re not looking. i’m not even kidding. probs just bursts into tears and pony and johnny are like you ok mannn???

Johnny: blushes the most out of everyone when you give him affection, especially when anyone’s around. he’s such a happy smol bean and he just loves you with his whole heart and universe like omg! your support means the world to him, he’d cry and be so messed up without you. but you still make him cry nonetheless. but they’re happy tears, i promise!! like he’s so astounded bc you let him stay at your’s bc your parent’s understand the situation and let him come round whenever he wants. you make sure he’s well fed and get’s a good amount of sleep in a place that’s not the lot? you complete him. you make him see that he’s more than just some kid with a bad home in a bad neighborhood... he can be anything and anyone as long as you’re by his side. the little butterflies he get’s when he sees you- !!!

Dallas: not so happy about the affection part in front of others (unless he’s jealous and wants to prove to everyone you’re his) just bc it’s uncomfy for him and he ain’t used to it. but that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy having you all over him! bc if it was up to him he’d have you all over him every second of every day if he could. ;) in private though he’ll gripe about how mushy you are, reluctantly leaning into your embrace or letting you kiss him. like you’ll want to cuddle or hold his hand and he’ll eventually relent, muttering about broads and stuff. he only makes it seem like he hates it but he actually loves it to pieces. and when you play with his hair??? mmmmmmmm boi is putty in your hands. but seriously, your support means a lot to dal, it shows that you’re loyal to him and if you’re loyal to him he’s loyal to you. like the way you show up at the cooler to visit him brings such a huge smile to his face. no broads done that for him before. treat dally with care bc this boii is sensitive. 12/10 a happy duck.

Tim: kinda iffy about the affection. he’s a tough son of a gun and can’t have everyone knowing he’s got a partner that hangs onto him like a fly does to honey. he loves it though, really, especially when people are looking at you in interest, it serves a purpose then. he’s also in love with when you do it to freak out curly. it honestly made him cry of laughter once bc curly was about to yack in a garbage can. fun times man... fun times. anyway... your support is super wonderful for him. you visit him in the cooler a lot when he goes in, which he didn’t expect bc most people he’s dated never did that or were too mad to even show up. but here you are. you also take care of curly and angela like your own, opening up your door to them and him. he’s got a soft spot for you okay? it’s especially so bc his home life is so bad with his step dad and mum chucking things left right and center, then everyone else joining on in. it’s a tiring place. if he looks back... he doesn’t know how in the hell he survived without you before you came along and wouldn’t know how to go on without you by his side to help. but tell no one that okay?  s o f t  b o i  v i b e s 

Curly: mad happy like. until someone fucking mentions it that is. then he’s all talk and trying to get you off him. you roll your eyes bc curly’s really more talk than action and most people know it. but nevertheless, he wants everyone to know you’re his so loves it when you hang onto him like a vice. he’s not really had much affection in his life, so it’s new but he can’t seem to get enough of it. deffo a happy puppy when he gets the affection and attention. and curly’s not all that smart either, but having your support helps him to see that he just see’s things differently from other people and that school isn’t everything. and that’s okay tbh. however, you don’t support his bad behavior but you also know that you can’t change him unless he wants to change himself. he’s only just starting to get these boundaries, just give him a chance. loves your cuddles bc he can fall asleep and he always has a tough time falling asleep bc he doesn’t feel like he can trust anyone other than his brother and sister. and now he’s got you. thank god! literally the sweetest chick ever

If you enjoyed this please heart, reblog and follow for more. 🌙❣

[captain-sodapop]

Headcanons about how each member of the Outsiders gang feel about the others?

ooh this is an interesting one...

(this is gonna be so long LMAO)

so, just to be clear: these guys are a gang, like brothers, and they would do anything for each other.  they might get seriously pissed off at one another sometimes, but when push comes to shove, they’ll be there if the other guy needs them, no questions asked

like, outside the group, they do have other friends, but the seven of them have something special that other people see and are envious of.  other people - no matter what side of the tracks they’re from - are sort of jealous of them and wish they could be like that with their friends

honestly, I think a big part of why they’re friends is because they’ve just always been friends, and it’s hard to imagine life without the others there, no matter how incompatible they may seem on paper - they’re a diverse, interesting group of guys with all sorts of different outlooks on life and personalities

that said, I do think they kinda pair off with each other a lot, especially now that Darry’s pretty busy with trying to keep a household

obviously Soda and Steve are BFFs 

Darry and Two-Bit are each others’ best friends, being the oldest and having known each other forever

then there’s Pony, Johnny, and Dallas, and they’re sort of a trio

however, Dallas and Tim are probably each others’ best friends, even though they kinda hate each other.  interesting dynamic there

but Johnny is also sorta both Pony and Dally’s best friend, and Johnny doesn’t like to pick so he’d probably say the same

Pony wouldn’t say so to Dally’s face, but in truth he’s pretty scared of him so...yeah.

but when any of these pairs pair up, or - worse - all seven of them are together?  watch the fuck out.  for real, these guys are mischief makers.  not dangerous, just incredibly stupid and loud lmao

like...Darry will 1000% cut loose if he gets the chance to be with the rest of them and they will all cheer him on to be the biggest dumbass he can be, and tbh it’s pretty cute, in a stupid boy way

oh - and Darry is everyone’s role model

Now, thinking individually:

Darry

Sodapop: obviously Soda is his younger brother and he has to look out for him legally, but I feel they’re pretty tight - Pony even says so in the book.  Soda can get away with teasing him, and he’s a great shoulder to cry on when things are getting stressful.  also: “little buddy” *wibbles*

Ponyboy: he loves this kid bunches, but he just doesn’t get him sometimes.  he also frustrates him to no end, and wishes he would just listen and realize he’s trying to help him.  he’s really protective of Pony, and sees him as a really little kid still, so sometimes he goes a bit overboard with looking out for him, but he can’t help it - he’s seriously worried about him all the time

Johnny: Darry also worries about Johnny a lot, but sort of in a helpless way - Darry just doesn’t really know what to do besides be there for him.  but he’s glad Johnny’s there for Pony, and when they actually get a chance to talk (which isn’t often), they always have the most laid-back conversations

Dallas: these two have a serious respect for each other, and for as much as Darry recognizes that Dally is a real-deal thug, he knows he has his own code that he lives by, and Darry respects that.  Darry isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with him, though, considering he always keeps his door open to him, so he doesn’t tolerate his bullshit

Two-Bit: like I said above, I see these two as best friends.  they’re total opposites, and that’s what makes them work as buddies.  Two-Bit gets Darry to loosen up every now and then, and they’ve known each other since before god, so it’s not unusual to see them on the front steps with a six pack shooting the shit and talking about their little siblings, sports, life, etc.

Steve: Darry respects and cares about Steve, but I think he’ll always view him as Soda’s best friend, so in his head Steve is just this annoying little kid still at times.  also, he still kinda holds a grudge for that “all brawn, no brains” comment.  but Darry would never turn him away, and is always asking him for car help

Sodapop

Darry: I feel like Soda sees himself as Darry’s equal, and that’s why he’s got no fear of him.  he will tease him, call him out on his bullshit, and listen to whatever he has to say without trying to give him a bunch of advice.  Soda does wish that Darry would lighten up a little sometimes, though, just relax and be present with the rest of them like he used to

Ponyboy: as a middle kid, Soda loves having a big brother, but also having a little brother that he can be there for.  he thinks Pony is just the smartest kid he’s ever met, and he’s really proud of him.  he also is Pony’s shoulder to cry on a lot of times, and he tries to include him in stuff to help him out of his shell if Steve isn’t being an issue

Johnny: Soda wishes he could see more of Johnny - he thinks he’s a good guy, a loyal friend - but they don’t really get the chance that often.  but Soda always asks Johnny how he’s doing, what’s new with him, and always checks in on him

Dallas: Dally doesn’t scare Soda that much, and they have a fun time together, but Soda’s not blind to the person he is, his darker side.  he knows not to cross him because he’s afraid of what happen if he will, so he tries to keep things light between the two of them, just shoot the shit and talk about girls, go driving, etc. 

Two-Bit: Soda’s favorite dumbass.  if Soda has a dumb idea, Two-Bit is his yes-man.  they play off each other really well, and Sodapop likes that with Two-Bit, things just don’t feel complicated.  life is just easy, and Two-Bit is always willing to either listen, or distract, and Soda seriously appreciates that

Steve: these two are just trouble when they’re together, no beating around the bush.  these two are also pretty different from each other, but they’ve been friends so long that Soda can’t imagine not having Steve for a friend.  they just get each other, and since Soda has so many people dump on him...Steve is the guy he goes to when he needs to vent.  they can just work on a car together and talk, and all Soda needs Steve to do is listen

Ponyboy

Darry: Pony wishes Darry could be the way he used to be before the accident, and he often gets frustrated with him, sees him as a nag and someone who just wants to be right and make everyone do what he says.  but he also loves him and looks up to him and knows that Darry is doing his best, so sometimes he tries to cut him some slack.  there are times when they’re one-on-one and Pony really enjoys that - Darry is smart, and they can talk about school and books without anyone looking at them sideways, and Pony really admires his big brother’s intelligence

Sodapop: we know Pony loves Sodapop - he even admits he’s his favorite brother.  he really does put him on a pedestal (when he probably shouldn’t), but Soda isn’t always on his back about everything and is a great person to talk to and work things out with.  Pony thinks he’s pretty much one of the coolest guys in town, too, and wants to be like that

Johnny: soft bffs :’)  Pony does definitely see Johnny as kinda skittish, but he’s also his best friend.  they don’t have to talk at all, which is honestly perfect for both of them.  Pony sees Johnny as his equal even though he’s two years older, and is always trying to play up to him, and even sometimes protect him from others.  I think Pony also probably likes to watch Johnny play pinball, lol

Dallas: Pony is scared of Dallas - period, point blank.  he respects him, but he’s scared of him, and doesn’t get for a long time that Dallas actually cares about him

Two-Bit: Pony sees Two-Bit as a goof, sure, but he also sort of looks up to him - he’s calm, he’s funny, he seems to have a grip on life; an understanding of it that he can put in concise words.  being with Two-Bit is easy for him, and he likes that Two-Bit is always willing to include him and talk to him and not make him feel stupid

Steve: even though he’s Soda’s best friend, these two are like oil and water.  Pony thinks Steve is too serious, too snarky, too mean to actually be able to like, but he still cares about him because of how close he is to his brother, and respects his intelligence and work ethic

Johnny

Darry: Darry has been kinder to Johnny than he could ever feel he deserved, and he’s grateful.  he’s a little scared of him, but really only because he’s a giant of a guy...but with Johnny, he’s a gentle giant

Sodapop: he kinda wishes he could be as popular and laid-back as Soda, as good with the girls as Soda.  but it’s so hard for Johnny not to like him because of how nice and chill he is.  he also really appreciates that Soda isn’t overbearing with “protecting” him - he just lets him be himself

Ponyboy: Johnny thinks Pony is just so smart, and so talented, and 99% of the time, he isn’t jealous of that.  he looks out for him in his own quiet way, but can also see how some might think Pony is kind of annoying.  but he really likes him, and is more than willing to let the kid either just sit with him quietly or talk his ear off about his books and movies

Dallas: Johnny’s hero.  what else needs to be said?

Two-Bit: Johnny thinks Two-Bit is a real cut-up - he gets on his nerves a bit at times, but he likes his upbeat, no-nonsense outlook on life and that he treats him like an equal

Steve: he and Steve are just sorta friends, without much complications to it.  Johnny thinks Steve is smart and surly, but his attitude doesn’t stop him from liking him

Dallas

Darry: this is the one person Dallas would never dare cross.  ever.  he may snark at him, but that’s it.  and you know what?  Dallas respects that.  he sees Mrs. Curtis in her oldest son, and that softens him towards him.

Sodapop: Darry’s kid brother.  he’s wild and way too upbeat for Dallas most times, but that wild energy can sometimes be harnessed into some real wild times, and that’s when Dallas really has fun with him

Ponyboy: Darry and Soda’s kid brother.  he knows the kid is something special, though, but he doesn’t know how to express that.  but he doesn’t mind him tagging along on his escapades, and gets a kick out of him

Johnny: the one person Dallas loved (however you view that love, romantic or platonic).  What else needs to be said?

Two-Bit: he’s annoying, but there’s something about Two-Bit that Dallas can’t help but respect.  they’ve gotten into fights before, but Two-Bit is the opposite in Darry in that he seems to have that same energy of don’t fuck with me, or you’ll regret it, which doesn’t make sense to Dally because he’s such a goof

Steve: Dallas respects that Steve is good in a fight, keeps his trap shut, and is smart.  period, full stop.

Two-Bit

Darry: if Two-Bit didn’t have Darry, he’d be in constant trouble.  he helps him feel like more of an adult, and he wishes he could be more like him at times.  but they’re old friends, and Two-Bit wishes he could see more of him like he used to, and he’s always trying to cheer Darry up while also asking him for advice and venting to him because he feels like everyone else will view that as him being a burden

Sodapop: again - this is a crazy duo.  just watch out for these two when they’re together.  Two-Bit will say yes to any of Soda’s stupid plans, and Soda will do the same for him.  seriously, just watch the fuck out for these two.

Ponyboy: Two-Bit is worried about this kid.  he really sees him like a little brother, and he wishes he could stay innocent and kind forever, and works to do what he can to preserve that because he’s so smart and has so much to offer.  he just tries to be there for the kid, and wishes he could see that the whole gang really cares about him

Johnny: Two-Bit honestly believed for a long time that they couldn’t get along without Johnny turns out they couldn’t get along without Pony.  he knows Johnny’s tough, but Two-Bit can’t help but be a bit protective over him, and often forgets he can handle himself  

Dallas: in some ways, for as much as Two-Bit likes getting up to trouble with him and screwing around together, Two-Bit thinks Dallas is an idiot.  he’s dangerously reckless, opposed to Two-Bit being more harmlessly reckless, and worries about Pony and Johnny hanging around him.  he likes him for sure, but thinks he’s a pretty bad influence

Steve: Two-Bit sees Steve as a bear to poke and get a reaction out of.  he gets a real kick out of messing with him because he’s so serious, but he also knows how smart and dedicated a friend Steve is, and really likes that about him.  he wishes he’d lighten up a bit and be nicer to Ponyboy, but he’s loyal to him and considers him a very close friend

Steve

Darry: Steve really respects Darry for the sacrifices he’s made, but he sometimes reads him wrong and crosses a line with him.  he tries not to do that because I think he wishes he could be more like him - just as smart, just as strong, just as dedicated

Sodapop: again - best friends, y’all.  Steve appreciates that Soda is the more upbeat person of the pair, can get him out of a slump and put things into perspective for him - things aren’t always quite as bad as they seem.  they’ve known each other so long, that Steve can’t imagine his life without Soda and sees him as the brother he never had.  if Steve’s the mechanic, Soda’s the driver

Ponyboy: thinks he’s a TWERP.  he hates how he’s whiny and always tagging along everywhere, and he can’t help but think of him as the baby of the group.  bitch bitch bitch.  but...he has to look out for him.  he tells himself it’s for Darry and Soda, but he feels this strong urge to protect him that he can’t quite explain (and definitely doesn’t like)

Johnny: Johnny behaves more like Steve wishes Pony would - he’s cool, and nowhere near as whiny, so Steve likes hanging out with him, and looks out for him, too - like when Sylvia came onto him.  he wants to help preserve what very little happiness and innocence Johnny has left, so Steve is always inviting him places

Dallas: Steve thinks Dallas is a bastard, but in a good way.  he thinks he’s tough and tuff, and likes how he doesn’t give a damn about the law and will fuck up anyone who gets in his way.  there are days where Steve wishes he could care as little as Dally, but he just can’t, and that’s where there’s sometimes still a disconnect - Steve does care, in his own way

Two-Bit: these two often get stuck together.   they’re actually close in their own way, especially after Johnny and Dallas die, because it’s the brothers and them, so Steve appreciates having Two-Bit around to lighten things up, even if he claims to think he’s annoying.  they can just sit around the DX and talk about whatever, and it’s easy, and Steve appreciates Two-Bit always trying with him, not being deterred by his often crappy moods

[frankiefellinlove]

These were the times...

On April 10 2014 the legendary E Street Band

Was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame.

Bruce Springsteen made the Induction Speech.

In the beginning, there was Mad Dog Vincent Lopez, standing in front of me, fresh out of jail, his head shaved, in the Mermaid Room of the Upstage Club in Asbury Park. He told me that he had a money-making outfit called Speed Limit 25, they were looking for a guitarist, and was I interested? I was broke, so I was. So the genesis point of the E Street Band was actually a group that Vini Lopez asked me to join to make a few extra dollars on the weekend.

Shortly thereafter, I met Dan Federici. He was draped in a three quarter-length leather, had his red hair slicked back. His wife Flo, she was decked out in a blonde bouffant wig, and they were straight out of Flemington, New Jersey. [Cheers] Whoa! Flemington!

Vini, Danny, myself, along with bass player Vinnie Roslin, were shortly woodshedding out of a cottage on the main street of a lobster-fishing town, Highlands, New Jersey. I first saw Garry Tallent along with Southside Johnny when they dragged two chairs onto an empty dance floor as I plugged my guitar into the Upstage wall of sound. I was the new kid in a new town, and these were the guys who owned the place, and they sat back and looked at me like, "Come on, come on, punk, bring it — let's see what you got." And I reached back, and I burnt their house down.

But predating all of this was Steve Van Zandt. Singer! Frontman! Frontman! He was the frontman — I walked into the Middletown Hullabaloo Club, he was the frontman for a band called The Shadows. He had on a tie that went from here down to his feet. All I remember is that he was singing The Turtles' "Happy Together." During a break — at the Hullabaloo Club in New Jersey, you played 55 minutes on and five minutes off, and if there was a fight, you had to rush back onstage and start playing again. So I met Stevie there, and he soon became my great... bass player first, then great guitarist. My consigliere, he's my dependable devil’s advocate whenever I need one. He is the invaluable ears for everything that I create — I always get a hold of him — and fan number one. He's my comic foil onstage, my fellow producer/arranger, and my blood, blood, blood, blood, blood brother, for so long. So, Stevie, let’s keep rolling for as many lives as they’ll give us, alright?

Years and bands went by: Child, Steel Mill, the Bruce Springsteen Band... they were all some combo of the above-mentioned gang. Then I scored a solo recording contract with Columbia Records, and I argued to get to choose my recording "sidemen" — which was a misnomer, in this case, if there ever was one. So, I chose my band, and my great friends, and we finally landed on E Street. A rare, rock 'n' roll hybrid of solo artistry and a true rock 'n' roll band.

But one big thing was missing.

So! It was a dark and stormy night! [Laughs] As a Nor’easter rattled the street lamps of Kingsley Blvd! And in walked Clarence Clemons. I'd been enthralled by the sax sounds of King Curtis and Junior Walker and had searched for years for a great rock 'n' roll saxophonist, and that night Clarence walked in, walked towards the stage, and he rose, towering to my right on the Prince's tiny stage, about the size of this podium, and then he unleashed the force of nature that was the sound and the soul of the Big Man. In that moment, I knew that my life had changed. Miss you, love you, Big Man — we wish you were here with us tonight. This would mean a great, great deal to Clarence.

An honorable mention and shout-out to Ernie "Boom" Carter, the drummer who played on one song only: "Born to Run." He picked a good one, he picked a good one. So here's to you, Ernie. Thank you, thank you.

And thank you of course to Max Weinberg and Roy Bittan, who answered an ad in the Village Voice, and they beat out 60 other drummers and keyboardists for the job. It was the indefatigable, almost dangerously dedicated Mighty Max Weinberg and the fabulous flying fingers of Professor Roy Bittan. They refined and they defined the sound of the E Street Band that remains our calling card around the world to this day. Thank you, Roy. Thank you, Max. They are my professional hitmen! Love you both.

Then, ten years later, Nils Lofgren and Patti Scialfa joined just in time to assist us in the rebirth of Born in the U.S.A. Nils, one of the world's great, great rock guitarists with the choir boy’s voice, has given me everything he’s had for the past 30 years. Thank you, Nils. So much love.

And Patti Scialfa, a Jersey Girl, came down one weekend from New York City and sat in with a local band, Cats on a Smooth Surface and Bobby Bandiera at the Stone Pony, and she sang a killer version of The Exciters' "Tell Him." She had a voice that was filled with a little Ronnie Spector, a little Dusty Springfield, and a lot of something that was her very, very own. After she was done, I walked up, I introduced myself to her at the back bar. We grabbed a couple of stools and we sat there for the next hour — or 30 years or so [laughs]. Talked about music and everything else. So we added my lovely red-headed woman, and she broke the boys club!

I wanted our band to mirror our audience, and by 1984, that meant grown men and grown women. But, her entrance freaked us out so much that the opening night of the Born in the U.S.A. tour, I asked her to come in to my dressing room and see what she was gonna wear. And she had on kind of a slightly feminine T-shirt, and I stood there, kind of sweating. At my feet, I had a little Samsonite luggage bag that I carried with me, and I kicked it open, and it was full of all my smelly, sweaty T-shirts. And I said, "Just pick one of these [laughs]. It'll be fine!" She's not wearing one tonight. But Patti, I love you, thank you for your beautiful voice, you changed my band and my life. Thank you, honey. Thank you for our beautiful children.

Real bands: real bands are made primarily from the neighborhood. From a real time and a real place that exists for a little while, then changes, and is gone forever. They're made from the same circumstances, the same needs, the same hungers, culture, from the same need for a love to cover over hurt. They're forged in the search of something more promising then what you were born into. These are the elements, the tools, and these are the people who built a place called E Street.

Now, E Street was a dance, was an idea, was a wish, was a refuge, was a home, was a destination, was a gutter dream, and finally, it was a band. We struggled together, and sometimes we struggled with one another. We bathed in the glory and often the heartbreaking confusion of our rewards together. We’ve enjoyed health, and we've suffered illness and aging and death together. We took care of one another when trouble knocked, and we hurt one another in big and small ways.

But in the end, we kept faith with each other. And one thing is for certain: as I've said before in reference to Clarence Clemons, I told a story with the E Street Band that was and is bigger than I ever could have told on my own. And I believe that that settles that question. For that is the hallmark of a rock 'n' roll band: the narrative you tell together is bigger than any one of you could have told on your own. That’s the Rolling Stones. That's the Sex Pistols. That's Bob Marley... and the Wailers. That's James Brown... and his Famous Flames. That's Neil Young and Crazy Horse. So, I thank you, my beautiful men and women of E Street. You made me dream and love bigger than I ever could have without you.

And tonight I stand here with just one regret. That's that Danny and Clarence can't be with us tonight. Sixteen years ago, a few evenings before my own induction, I stood in my own darkened kitchen along with Steve Van Zandt. Steve was just returning to the band, after a 15-year hiatus, and he was petitioning me to push the Hall of Fame to induct all of us together. And I listened, and the Hall of Fame had its rule, and I was proud of my independence. We hadn't played together in ten years, we were somewhat estranged. We were just taking the first small steps of reforming, and we didn't know what the future would bring. And perhaps a shadow of the some of the old grudges still held some sway. It was a conundrum, because we'd never been quite fish nor fowl. And Steve was quiet, but persistent, and at the end of our conversation he just said, "Yeah, yeah, I understand... but Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band — that's the legend."

So I’m proud to induct, into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, booty-shaking, love-making, earth-quaking, Viagra-taking, testifying, death-defying, legendary E Street Band!

[8osbabe]

Could you write a modern AU but the Socs and Greasers are actually friends, and everyone is a reincarnation of themselves from the 60s? And Pony's like hanging out with Bob or something and all of a sudden he gets flashes of his past life (Johnny dying, Dally being shot, Soda leaving for Vietnam) and it scares the shit out of him because it seems so real

the modern au! only one person asked for. i really liked writing this and can write more if anybody’s interested.

———

“it’s completely corrupt, the whole institution, really. i mean, yeah, the movie was decent, and of-the-moment considering the area fifty one craze, but so were the other twenty-something alien movies that came out this year.”

cherry valance sets her latte down on the table. the way she frowns when she looks back up at him almost has ponyboy curtis worried that she’s about to say something serious.

“ponyboy,” she reaches out to touch the hand he’s resting on the table, as if she’s gearing up to break the news. “it was a bad movie.”

“it was a modern take on a cult classic movie based on the sixties. it rivals Grease, it might’ve even been better.”

ponyboy takes a condescending sip from his iced black coffee, another one of his hipster habits.

“actually, i’m sorry that today’s society is so far removed from quality cinematic masterpieces. they were better, then.”

cherry smiles softly to herself, the kind of smile that went well with her eyes. ponyboy hadn’t really liked green eyes, like his own, until he’d met her.

“curtis, if you are ever getting a girlfriend, you’re going to have to stop acting like a holier-than-thou indie-kid.”

she casts a dramatic glance at the coffee shop they were sitting outside of. she hadn’t heard of it until ponyboy referred to it as “the last place that serves decent coffee.” ponyboy would rather die than set foot in a mainstream starbucks.

ponyboy laughs. “how am i going to get on without you to tell me how it is?”

“it’s only two weeks, pony. i’ll be back before you know it. it’s just—,” she gets a far away look in her eyes before continuing. “bob’s parents are always doting on him with vacations, but he figures this one will be bearable if i go with him.”

“ah, yes, ‘always getting doted on with vacations,’ oh the horror,” he answers sarcastically, leaning back in his seat. he’d never thought bob sheldon was good enough for cherry. wasn’t it always that way when it came to your best friends?

“ponyboy,” cherry scolds. “you don’t have to like him, but you could at least try to understand him.”

“yeah. you’re right, i’m sorry.”

ponyboy’s cell phone chimes, lighting up to reveal a text from darry.

“shoot. i’ve got to go help darry pack.”

“i should go finish getting my things, too.”

she rises from her seat and pulls ponyboy into a tight hug.

“tell darry i said hi, okay? good luck, pony.”

“you’re the one who needs the luck,” he smiles, and cherry stares pointedly at him before walking away with a grin.

back home, darry’s putting the last few of his clothes into a cardboard box. there’s not much darry can take to college since he’ll be living in an eight by twelve dorm.

ponyboy runs a hand through his sweaty hair, winded from the walk home. “is that the last of it?”

“think so.” darry sighs, and looks at ponyboy sentimentally. it’s out of character for darryl, and frankly it makes ponyboy uncomfortable.

“i’m gonna’ miss you, alright?” ponyboy wants to laugh at his brother’s aggressive affection.

“—and when i get back, you better have dyed that back,” he says gesturing dramatically towards pony’s box dyed hair. “and you better get your license.” there he is.

“yeah, yeah.” it was embarrassing being the only sixteen year old he knew without a license, but he figured it wouldn’t be necessary if he couldn’t afford a car. darry was only going to college on a scholarship, else he’d be stuck in this town forever.

he hushes his voice down to a near-whisper, glancing at the bathroom door where soda was showering down the hall.

“—talk soda down from enlisting, will you? i don’t think i’m getting through to him. if he studies, gets his GED, he can do anything else.” he sighs. “i’ll be sending you guys a paycheck every month, so don’t let him use money as en excuse, alright?”

ponyboy nods, and he’s relieved when he sees johnny cade walk through the screen door.

“hey pony, you busy?”

“not at all,” he picks up a deck from off of a shelf.

“cards?”

johnny nods and moved to sit down across from him at the dining room table as ponyboy shuffles the cards.

“where ya’ been, johnnycake?”

“at the lot. they kicked me out actually, seems they’re going to start building there or somethin’.”

“i ran into randy, actually.”

“oh?” ponyboy asks. he knew randy well enough from school, and even though he was bob’s friend, he liked him alright. “is his head still stuck in the seventies?”

“like hell. he was there protesting the build site. apparently they’ve got important plant life there.”

“he’ll get over it, being a hippie, it’s all just a fad.”

johnny cade laughs curtly. “a fad, huh? almost as unbearable as yours.”

ponyboy just shakes his head and deals the cards, noticing a bruise on johnny’s knuckles.

“what’s that about? you fight with your parents again?”

johnny sighs. “yeah, i punched a wall. mom got to talking about wishing she’d never had me, and god maybe she’s right, y’know?”

“come on, johnnycake,” ponyboy pats him on the shoulder. “who would keep dallas from killing me if you weren’t around?”

“speak of the devil.” dallas winston pushes open the front door, his expression sour but he was doing a decent job of hiding it. he’d listened in on the conversation with johnny.

“aw, dally, take that shit outside, you are not smoking in my house.” ponyboy generally avoided smoking, since it was unhealthy, but he’d be lying if he said he never thought about taking it up just because it looked cool.

dallas blows smoke in ponyboy’s face. “what can i say? i’m a classic man. won’t find me smoking that flavor-vapor junk.”

“whatever, man, have fun living to the ripe old age of next tuesday,” ponyboy retorts, rolling his eyes.

“i ain’t ever gonna’ die,” dallas disappears into the kitchen, probably to raid the fridge.

ponyboy shudders. when he blinks, it’s gone, but for a moment he could have sworn he saw dallas with bullet holes through his back, chest, head.

“you alright, pony?” johnny looks concerned.

ponyboy shakes his head. “i don’t know, i’ve just been having a lot of these nightmares lately. weird thoughts, intrusive-like. i’ll just tell my shrink next time i go.”

johnny seems unsatisfied with the answer.

“is it about your parents, like before?”

“—not my parents. us, all of us.”

ponyboy looks through the window.

the sun was setting.

the horizon was gold.

[eliniei]

could you do a ponyboy fanfic where johnny was the readers best friend and johnnys death has really hurt them? thanks love xx

Sorry this took so long! I hope you like it!

Masterlist: here

Warnings: Grief?

Best Friend

I stared down at the gravestone they’d given him. It was plain. His name. His birth date. His death date. Nothing else. 

Johnny Cade was worth so much more than this. So much more than what his parents made of him. Anger welled up in my chest and all I wanted to do was kick over the slab of rock that wasn’t good enough for a hero. 

But I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I…couldn’t.

The skies opened up on me as I knelt down in the fresh dirt, not caring about dirtying my clothes. It had only been days since the funeral but I found myself back here. Again. 

He was my best friend. And now he was gone. 

I wish I had been able to do more and now I felt completely useless.

As the rain poured down around me, the ground beneath me softened and turned into mud, but still I knelt, reading his name over and over like an incantation- a spell- that could somehow bring him back to life. But, I knew it wouldn’t work, no matter how much I hoped and prayed. 

I felt the hole in my chest would never be mended. I felt like I would live my life as the ghost of a person who lost their best friend early on and was never able to pull themselves out of the pit of mourning. 

And that’s when I heard them, even through the waterfall of rain currently beating down on my body, soaking me down to the bone. The footsteps coming up behind me.

I knew who it was without even looking. I’d memorized the sound of his gait many years ago when I’d first met him and Johnny in elementary school. 

“Y/N?” Ponyboy Curtis called my name. Through the water drumming down on the ground between us, he sounded far away. I tilted my head to show that I’d heard him, but I refused to speak.

If I opened my mouth, I was afraid that my soul would spill out through my lips. Pony already had enough on his plate. I couldn’t bear the lay my own burdens on the only friend I had left. 

“We’ve been lookin’ for ya everywhere,” he said, coming up next to me. “Have you been here this whole time?”

I looked back at the gravestone and nodded. 

“You can’t stay out here, y/n. You’re gonna get sick.”

I heaved a sigh.

“I don’t care.”

“You may not, but I do.” I felt his hands under my armpits as he tried to hoist be back to my feet, but I slumped like dead weight and he had trouble heaving me up. Ponyboy grunted above me and lifted me despite my protest. 

Once I was upright, I shoved him away. He slid back a few inches in the mud.

“Just leave me alone, Pony,” I muttered and wiped the water off my face as it streamed into my eyes. 

“Why, so you can wallow in your own grief?” The quake in his voice made my own chin tremble. I tried to hold it back, but a rage pulsed through my body- my veins- like it’d replaced my very blood. 

“Maybe it’s what I want!”

“Do you think this is what he would’ve wanted?”

“He ain’t here, is he?” 

“What a great way to remember him.”

“Why can’t you just let me be?”

“He was my friend, too!” Pony shouted. I finally looked him in the face. My mouth snapped shut at his expression and defensive stance. He was glaring- actually glaring- at me, tears running down his cheeks, obvious even through the downpour. 

We stared at each other for a few long seconds, both breathing heavily, until he relaxed and he sighed.

“I loved him too, y/n,” he started, wiping the tears and rainwater from his face with the heel of his palm. “And it would kill him all over again to know this is how he left us.”

I felt the dam I’d built up to contain my feelings start to crack. It started spider-webbing and the concrete of my mind shattered, opening the floodgates as my friend’s words laid heavily on me. 

I realized that he was right. 

Johnny didn’t want this for us. For me. For Pony. 

My shoulders tensed and started shaking as sobs starting wracking my body. 

The rain slowed around us to a soft drizzle as I cried. 

“I m-miss him, P-Pony,” I stuttered between breaths. 

Strong arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly. Ponyboy laid his head on top of mine, letting me get it all out.

“I miss him, too.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. 

“How do we get along without him?”

“I don’t know, y/n, but we’ll figure it out, okay?” He ran his hands up and down my back, trying to comfort me. I nodded into his chest.

“Okay,” I agreed. 

“We should prob’ly get outta here, huh? You’re freezin’. If we’re out here any longer we’ll both get sick.”

I nodded again and let him lead me out of the cemetery and towards our future- the future our friend would never have- but the one he would have wanted us to be a part of, together.

[vide0-nasties]

on the alabaster stones

2.9k words, arthur morgan/f!oc, sfw: arthur morgan and wildwood bordelon prepare for their ramshackle, spur-of-the-moment wedding. spoiler-heavy, specifically for chapter 5: saint denis and on.

It’s a funeral as much as a wedding, Wildwood straightening his collar-length hair pushing it from his face. Her eyes are bloodshot, brimming, and she sniffles and sighs in effort to keep herself composed.

Her hands shake, and Arthur is sorry for it. He catches them and kisses them when he can. When she tucks a yellow wildflower into the breast pocket on his vest. When she tucks a purple one behind his ear. He brings her knuckles to his lips, and speaks against her skin without meeting her eyes, “Actin’ like you’re laying me out for burial, Perdie.”

Calls her by the name her mother kept gentle in her cupped hands. Snags her, tugs the thread of history between them to still her hands and catch her eyes.

“I’m makin’ peace being your widow,” she tells him, voice deep and dark as the bottom of a dry well. Her skin is pink under the evening sun, her freckles a pretty chestnut against it all. “There’s coming a fuckin’ reckoning, and chances are I won’t get to bury you. I want to do you right, even if it’s right now.”

He’s dying—by bullet or his vengeful lungs—and he’s leaving her behind. The way things are going—the way she is acting—he will go first, but she won’t be trailing far behind him.

The train station is off a ways, Monroe and Calderón farther away from it then they are now. Arthur’s chest burns through every searing breath. He is being very careful now not to cough near her. He will not damn her if he can help it.

He worries for her, for everyone, but for her especially. Now, and in the future. He does not want her to be alone. Gets too sharp when she’s alone too long.

Her hands smell green from picking flowers, smell like gun oil and cordite from the shootout.

“I want you to go with John and Abigail after,” he says. “Take our horses, go do something decent.”

She gives him an empty look, as if she wants to fight him on this, just can’t figure out how. There’s been two plans ever since the return from Guarma and the diagnosis, forking in the road where he either lives or dies. The fork where he lives gets dimmer and more overgrown, less navigable with time and every mounting tragedy and fuck-up.

“It’s all our faults,” she sighs instead, letting him hold her hand to his chest, rubbing the side her thumb his own. “We all done killed ourselves, sprintin’ blind into the darkness, tryin’ to chase an endless summer that never existed.”

“Yeah, we just about did,” he agrees. Every death was senseless, every death was brought upon themselves. Greed and wantonness and recklessness. And now they’re almost all too far gone to escape the sink.

He worries. He worries.

“Are you going to be okay?” Part of him regrets asking. Part of him wants to hurt, the part that sees Wood for how low she’s been cast.

Thin and gaunt in her dirty shirt, wearing boots stolen off a soldier’s corpse, her rust-colored hair shorn shorter than any of them’s ever seen, and her seams literally fraying. The once rich embroidery on the lapels of her vest comes unsewn, blurring and ruining the original detail of the work. They used to be dripping poppies and willow switches on plum corduroy. Now it is a field of loose silk threads.

Her right eye, blind and milky, surrounded by angry, red scars that have yet to settle into her skin.

“I’m gonna live, even if it ain’t gonna be a happy life,” she admits. “It’s a bridge to burn if I reach it.”

Arthur can’t stand the defeat weighing her upper body down, like her arms and shoulders are too heavy to lift. Wood has never been accused of being an optimist, but she’d never faced her death with ‘when’ or 'if,’ only a faint, morbid curiosity. As if death was a thing that happened only to other people, and she was sure ponderous how life leaving the body felt.

A concept in the abstract. An animal’s understanding.

The first words he’d ever heard from her were screamed with the deepest offense he’d ever heard taken. “YOU can’t kill ME!” screeched almost eighteen years ago at the chicken-necked sheriff escorting her to the hanging rope for attempted murder, grand larceny, and horse theft. Disgusted that this lowly little lawman thought he could get his hands on her pelt for a trophy.

Little no-named outlaw. They all were, back then. Bunch of losers and wash-outs and orphans stuck on an ideal. Still are, in a way.

And, ah, fuck, it gets him laughing. She was pretty lamb-necked back then, herself, and the horse she’d stolen liked to eat meat and was renamed for the equine prince of hell.

“Perdie, we’re blowing up the bridge,” he says, feigning wide-eyed ignorance and misunderstanding in the face of her confusion. “I mean, if you wanna come with me and Johnny, all’s you gotta do is ask.”

He can only grin when her blank look slides fast into a sneer, trying half-heartedly to take her hand back. “Fais  pas ça! Arrête ça—bastard, little boy-child, tryin'a make a fool of me,” she tries to snap through her cackling. Even with her crows feet, even with the elastic lines hugging her mouth, she looks so young. He wishes things had happened differently.

He squeezes her hand, takes a step forward, then another, following her insincere retreat. “Never—I wouldn’t never,” he protests, reaching for her other arm as he smears a mockery of contrition over his expression.

“Enough, couillon,” she snorts, wearing her dimple and missing tooth out for his benefit. She swats away his arm without sting and sighs. Looks a little less close to crying. “Got a cleaner shirt in your saddlebag? And a dabber? Want this blood of my face, me.”

Finally, he lets go of her, but she tangles their fingers for the duration of their slow fall. “Sure, something’s clean enough. That blue one, I think, but it's  better torn up for rags.”

“Love that shirt.”

“I know you do. Wouldn’t surprise me none if you wore it til it fell apart on your back.”

Wood mutters to herself in that French of hers—the Cajun kind she spoke before she knew English, that she forgot with the blow to the head that turned her like spun-dime heads-or-tails from Perdita to Wildwood, and learned again—as she strips out of her layers. With her vest, shirt, and chemise thrown over the seat of his saddle, he gets a good look at the livid bruises cropping up on her ribs and the points of her hips.

But he refocuses—he knows he’s not a specimen of health, himself, right now—and concentrates on the ocean of freckles that turn her shoulders and elbows orange-brown, and that he knows her knees are almost as colorful. He concentrates on his shirt sliding over her arms, down her torso, too-too big but comfortable, and how he thinks she looks fine and lovely in that shade of blue.

He reminds himself to make sure that shirt is in her saddlebag if he feels like the end-all-be-all shit is about to go down. His buck skin jacket, too. Whatever he owns is hers, anyway.

“Hey, Wood?” he calls, using his thumb nail to scratch his adam’s apple, then drops his hand to his gun belt. When she looks over her shoulder—her left, now always her left—he shifts his weight and does his damnedest to make eye contact, though he ends up looking at her feet like a chastised dog. “I love you, is all. Just wanted to say that.”

“…I know you do, Arthur Morgan. I love you, too. Got a powerful love on for you."  

"Still don’t understand why,” he chuckles, a little bittersweet, “but I guess I’m luckier for your poor judgement.”

He can hear the frown in her voice, all the scars left on her through the years, “Ain’t neither'a us been loved any right kinda way, cher.”

If he tries to swallow that sentiment, he will choke to death on it. Too big, too many sharp edges. But fortune continues to favor him, because she  finishes up doing her borrowed buttons and does an about-face, hands on her hips. “You got them rings, boug?”

He does, and pats his satchel to show her. Pleased enough, she motions him closer, wetting an old bandana with water from her canteen. When he’s close enough to feel the warmth come off his Fox Trotter, smell the soap oil off her tack, he loads his repeater and shotgun back into the saddle scabbards. He pushes out of his shotgun coat after he’s slung the satchel’s strap over the saddle horn, layers it over Wood’s clothes already on the seat.

“Aw, Penny, thank you,” he croons, scratching her croup over her meaty haunches, watching her chew the bit and let her head droop. “Get treated like a clothesline and still actin’ like a proper lady.”

“She’s a good lil pony,” Wood agrees, “makes me feel awful for still missin’ Boadicea.”

“Penny ain’t little,” he says, half-offended, letting Wood strip him of his gloves and roll his shirtsleeves to the elbow. “Ain’t no pony either.”

Wood carefully takes the flower from behind his ear and flicks it back into the grass waving and rolling around their shins, maybe having decided she no longer preferred it, and keeps his hair pushed back with one hand as she begins to wipe the grime from his forehead.

The water is cool against his face, and, without his layers, he can feel the breeze that much better against his skin. He tries to keep from thinking about the way his body just look, how his face must look—bone and gristle and bruises and nothing else—feeling goosebumps prickle over his forearms.

“I know,” Wood hums. “Just miss Boadi, is all. Big ol’ beef steak, lazy as all kinds'a hell. But that’s just 'cause you spoiled her big ass. That’s your bad habit: spoilin’ things what love you, not disciplinin’ things what love you.”

“I…I dunno.” He can’t accuse her of being wrong. Boadicae had been fat and happy and slow until hell broke loose and he had to call on her for action, then she would drop her head and go to work like the devil’d lit a fire under her belly. Even Copper had never learned sit, drop, or stay, but he’d been loyal and unceasingly soft-mouthed and docile.

Isaac…

Arthur almost retreats from the memory. He’d seen so little of the boy through his short life. It felt wrong to tell him no for any reason. Eliza told him it made her feel like a villain when he showed up with a pack of chocolate bars and picture books and whatever little somethings had caught his eye. She hadn’t been unkind about it, either.

Said it with a peeved sort of fondness that told the intrusion was easily tolerated—even a little welcomed—because it would be forgotten a few days after he made himself gone again.

But, hell, even with Wood, he’d gone and inundated her in their new, short time. A saddle from the trapper, an Algernon Wasp hat and a corset, jewelry. Paid for their Saint Denis dinners, bought her ammo and a Litchfield repeater. He loves her, he needs her to know that, and he can’t figure a way to show better.

But she gave it back. Reciprocated. Cooked for him, took him dancing, killed them that tried to kill him first. Held him and made room for him and roared to silence rooms for his voice to be heard. Touched him and gentled him and tugged him outta the dark when he’d wanted to stay there.

She stole him a horse, one of the best he’s ever had.

The wind hits his face and dries to cool, clean sheen on his skin, making him shiver. It picks up his hair, and Wood’s, and in the dying light they both look a little golden.

She opens the collar of his shirt to clean his neck and chest, then moves to his forearms and hands. She pays extra attention to his fingers, the nail beds.

“What was I? Probably nineteen or twenty, when I told you I loved you that first time?”

“Yeah. 'Bout right. Made me that nice dinner.” Salmon seared in cast iron, crispy and drowning in butter and fresh pepper and lemon grass.

“Just askin’, 'cause I’d been sitting around with this picture of you in my head. Been down around Wyoming, saw that wild little scrub pony while we was getting, I dunno, something for camp. All hushed, you told me to watch, and you just walked right up to her, all slow and quiet. Started petting her, had her eating from your hand.”

He doesn’t remember that. They’re’ve been so many horses since then, wild or otherwise. It makes him ache he can’t remember her memory.

“It just crushed me. I never fell in love like that. And you looked a lot like you do now, with the sun going down behind your hair, giving you a halo. Like you one'a them saints in the cathedral glass, or like Mary holding a lamb.”

She sighs and wrings out the bandana, satisfied enough with his cleanliness. “Was always something holy 'bout you. Above and below and the middle of the world’s rot and distemper. Thought you were meant and due a different life than this the one we got.”

She re-wets the bandana and cleans herself up, with only a fraction of the gentleness she’d used on him. It is quick, and efficient, and if he sees her hands work over the quarter of her face with the blind eye a little rougher, a little more fearful, he says nothing.

“Uh, one night,” he starts, not understanding where he wants to go with this confession, “you were dancing with Dee, after he got you carrying Louis. And then you lost Louis not much later, and Dee left…I loved you, and I was real angry at the world for a long time about that happening to you. I was angry at myself. If I hadn’t left you that first time, you might not’ve been hurt like that.”

Already sober and sad, it gets worse. She’s dressing him for burial and marriage, both. Doing it now because she might not get to later. “You keep losing people, Wood. It ain’t right.”

“I have them a little while before I lose them. This life is short, and at the end of it there ain’t nothing but a dreamless dark-everlasting. Rather taste ash than nothin’ at all.”

Arthur feels a finality in those words, a hammer cocked on a pistol, aimed down at some un-bowed head. Rather taste ash than nothing at all. Looking back at a wreckage of a life, and pinpointing glitter of better times in the debris.

“I hate that I didn’t marry you the day we met,” he laughs, shaking his head.

“Would’ve been hard, what with that rope on my neck, and all them bullets flying. Y'all boys always knew how to brew a shitstorm,” she snorts back. “And, 'sides, we’re jumpin’ the broom now. Better late, et cet'ra.”

Speak of the devil, and he doth appear, or the saying goes, and Wood roots through his satchel to retrieve the little silk bag with their rings. Cleaned and refitted by a jeweler in Saint Denis, briefly abandoned during the catacylsmic exodus to Guarma, and used through the years in countless scams, they were familiar and, frankly, worth as much as a tin nickel outside of sentiment.

But they were emblematic, and they are theirs. Cheap yellow gold, fitted with that fraudulent hunk of green glass Margaret had passed off for a priceless emerald, polished to a spit-shine. History, old and new, something she could hopefully wear both pieces of after the inevitable comes to pass.

They marry as the sun dips fat and slow below the horizon, with only a mouthful of promises passed between them. They kiss, and they kiss, and they keep kissing, pressed close and shivering against each other’s bodies.

It makes Arthur hope and hurt and want to see the world that comes after this private apocalypse. The one where guns are put in the ground, where they spend their lives decently, atoning for the blood they cannot possibly wash from their hands.

Where the dreamless dark-everlasting is met with him hand-in-hand with the woman he’d spent his life with, and not kneeling head un-bowed facing down the barrel of divine retribution’s revolver.

“The world gonna remember the good you left in it, Arthur,” Wildwood Morgan tells him, her arms wrapped tight around his waist, “I’m thankful for having seen you rise into it.”

[digikate813]

My Little Pony Re-Watch: Episode 44 A Friend in Deed

*If you want an episdoe that displays the best of Pinkie, and how to turn that into a great conflict and resolution, look no further then this one! Party of One is great and Pinkie will have other episodes fans would consider her best, but this is so endearingly, unashamedly Pinkie, it just makes you, smile.

*Which will bring us to our first talking point. The Smile Song. While i personally prefer songs like Flim and Flam’s and an upcoming song in the season finale, I would argue this was the most popular song of Season 2. It rivals Winter Wrap Up in terms of upbeat songs that you’ll be hard pressed to find a brony who won’t sing a long to it.

*And it emphasizes what i was talking about when i said this episode portrays what makes Pinkie a great character. All she wants is to make ponies happy. Whether it’s throwing a party, complimenting their work, or remembering the birthdays of literally everyone in Ponyville! Except her own strangely but anyway. She’ll go to any lengths to make ponies she considers her friends smile, and everypony appreciates her for it. Pinkie has probably the most songs of anypony in the show, and she’ll get a couple of more in this episode alone, but in my opinion, this is still her best. It’s upbeat and cheerful and proud of it! 

*Plus the staging in this number is just as fun and lively as the song itself. I can only imagine what a joy it was to see the storyboards come together for this one.

*The brief introduction of Matilda. Finally! A donkey who seems to be a well mannered member of society!

*Before we get introduced to a proper stubborn mule. Cranky. Or should i say Cranky Doodle Donkey. Yeah, I’m not gonna lie, I chuckled quite a bit when I heard it for the first time. Call me childish! I think it’s funny.

*So the inside of Pinkie’s mind recaps her memories in felt figures? That’s surprisingly tame for what I though the inside of Pinkie’s mind would look like. It’s still adorable though.

*This is what i mean by Pinkie’s strengths being turned into a weakness. She’s determined to make everypony smile, and Cranky just wants to be left alone. So Pinkie takes not being able to make him smile  as a personal failure. It’s a fine line with Pinkie from her dedication to learning so many details about ponies to brighten their days, and making someone happy being more of a personal victory for her life’s goal. And that’s kind of an interesting distinction to make. How long before trying to do something nice for someone is no longer about them, but about your own satisfaction?

*Pinkie has a literal welcome wagon. Of course she does. But I’m shocked they never actually call it a welcome wagon. Guess it was just low hanging fruit on the pun tree that even this team wouldn’t pick.

*Cranky’s Bald! Insert Spongebob movie reference here. Well at least Pinkie tries to fix it and he gets some sweet new Johnny Bravo hair out of the whole ordeal.

*And i like the detail of Cranky sincerely thanking pinkie for the nice things she did for him, but still not smiling and still goes on his way. It’s a nice way to show that he’s not a jerk or anything. He’s just an old donkey who prefers solitude. He gets a bit short tempered with Pinkie for messing with his stuff, but he doesn’t get angry and yells at her until she accidentally destroys something precious to him. These are all important distinctions to make to have Cranky be more then a just your average grump, and I’m glad the show takes the time to flesh out his character.

*Rainbow Dash is seen reading Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet. To quote Silver Quill: CONTINUITY!!

*Twilight tries to get Pinkie to leave Cranky alone, and she almost gets there, but she still won’t let up on the matter until she and Cranky are on good terms. Adding more credibility to this being more personal for Pinkie. Refusing to take no for an answer.

*I guess now’s as good a time as any to talk about the animation. Pinkie’s episodes always come with an extra bit of pep with Pinkie’s natural over the top, bouncy nature, but if you ask me, this took it to a whole new level! This episode moves pretty fast, but not really in an exhausting way. The animation is vibrant and energetic and the facial expressions are adorable and, well, expressive. You could freeze almost any frame of this episode and get something fun. Plus we get another elaborate Pinkie chase scene. I’m surprised this is still funny, but it certainly is.

*The resolution is excellently crafted as well. Pinkie doesn’t win Cranky’s friendship by giving up, but by using her best qualities to reunite him with the love of his life, Matilda. Something only Pinkie could have probably done because she took the time to learn the things that connected them.

*Apparently Cranky is of a high enough class to attend the Grand Galloping Gala. Who knew?

*But while Pinkie using her best qualities to make Cranky smile, in the end she respects his wishes and leaves him alone with Matilda. A great example of how there are all kinds of different friends, and it’s okay for friends to want to be left alone. As long as you can make each other smile when they need it, that’s what friendship is all about.

This is a great episode! One of the best of the season and one of Pinkie’s best to this day. Too much Pinkie can get a bit overwhelming, but this story strikes the perfect balance. Everything here is polished and endearing with great dialogue and astonishing animation! When I was first getting into MLP, I remember watching this one whenever I’d see it on TV. It always makes me smile. Next Time: Putting Your Hoof Down!

[wallas-dinston]

Two

Hi! So, this is an excerpt from a wicked long (like 200 page) fanfic I wrote a couple months ago. I basically took the original plot line of the book (and some quotes) and mixed it with my own original ideas, by adding a sister to the Curtis family named Sunshine. This story is written from Sunshine Curtis’ point of view, who was part of the gang and had slight romantic feelings toward Johnny Cade. I hope you enjoy! This portion is Dallas Winston’s death. This is not perfect by any means, so sorry for any mistakes.

“Johnny. He’s dead.” Pony started, his voice sounding strange.

“Shh. We know.” I comforted him, but he continued.

“We told him about beatin’ the Socs and….I don’t know, he just died.” He stammered. He suddenly jolted.

“Dallas is gone.” He said. “He ran out like the devil was after him. He’s gonna blow up. He couldn’t take it.” Dallas Winston couldn’t take it. So how could I take it? How am I supposed to live with this? Johnny was the only thing Dallas loved, and he was gone.

“So he finally broke.” Two-Bit spoke, reading everyone’s mind. “So even Dally has a breaking point.” I began to shake. I couldn’t stop thinking. No. Johnny couldn't leave me here. It was my fault. He saved me instead of himself. I should have stopped him. I should have never brought him to the park that day. Darry said something to Soda in a low voice, but my train of thought never faltered. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did the light of my life have to go? I should have had more time with him. What were my last words?! What did I say to him? Did I make it count? I don’t remember. How can I not remember? I should have known. My breathing got faster and faster until I felt nauseous.

“Sunny,” Soda said softly, as if he were talking to a child, or a crippled bird. “You look sick. Sit down.”

I backed up, frightened, shaking my head.

“I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. It’s okay. We’re fine.” I replied calmly as I could. But I felt sick. Like any moment I was going to pass out cold on the floor. I was hot and pale.

Darry stepped towards me, but I backed up once again.

“Don't touch me.” I said. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. It was pumping hard and slow. It throbbed with the weight of loss. Everyone was looking at me.

The phone began to ring, and without hesitation I stepped away to answer it. Anything I could do to get myself out of that situation.

“Darry?” a familiar voice asked.

“Sunny.” I replied. It suddenly hit me who was speaking. It was Dally.

“Dallas?” I questioned. He grunted in response. I could almost picture him, standing at a phonebooth, licking his lips nervously. I could hear it in his voice.

“Can I talk to Darry, Sun?” He asked. He sounded hectic and wild. It was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Trouble has found me, kid.”

“Dally. What did you do? You know it’s dangerous for you to-” Dally cut me off.

“I’ve got nothing left to lose, Sunshine. That makes me the dangerous one.” His voice was hoarse.

“Dally, Dally. Don’t say that-” I began to speak frantically, but Darry had come up behind me. He slowly took the phone from my hands and held it to his own ear. Everyone stood, waiting to see what would happen. After a minute of intent listening, Darry hung up the phone quickly and turned to look at us.

“It was Dally. He phoned from a booth. He’s just robbed a grocery store and the cops are after him. We gotta hide him. He’ll be at the lot in a minute.” I gasped, a squeak escaping my throat. I snapped out of my position, pushing past Curly and Tim, and flew out the door.

We all left the house at a dead run, and everyone had a solemn and angry expression. Nobody was laughing and whooping like they were before. I was still not feeling right, I could barely run straight. My head was pulsing. But I was numb. Zero. Any pain I had felt earlier had subsided, leaving me with a seemingly normal functioning body.

I heard the sirens, and we reached the lot in time to see Dally running in hard, the police chasing him. He looked behind him to see how far away they were, and skidded to a halt, in the glow of a streetlight. I heard the screeching of tires, shouting, shoe soles on the pavement, and even before he pulled the gun from his pocket, I knew what he was doing. Everyone reached the edge of the lot to watch Dallas in awe, but I kept on racing forward, towards him. Only two things raced through my mind: ‘I need to save him’, and, ‘Not Dally too. Not him and Johnny both.’ Curly grabbed me and held me in my place, but I kicked and struggled against him, trying to free myself from his grasp. Fear washed over me. I had to stop him. Dally’s voice ran through my mind like a coursing river. ‘Anyways, it ain’t loaded. I ain’t aiming to get picked up for murder. But it sure does help a bluff.’ I wish I was faster. I wish I could have gotten it out quicker. With hysterical eyes I looked around the lot screaming, “It's a bluff! It's empty!”, but nobody moved an inch. It was as if they couldn’t hear me. We had run out of time. And then there was nothing else I could do except watch in horror. In one last effort I screamed after him, “Dallas no!”, but he jerked the gun from his waistband, and pointed it towards the officers. That selfish bastard looked at me with grim triumph spread across his face as the bullets echoed in the night, rocking his body to the ground. An image that would haunt me for the rest of my life. I knew he would be dead, because Dallas Winston wanted to be dead, and he always got what he wanted one way or another. Curly released me and I ran over to Dally, sinking to my knees beside him. Me and Dallas never had the strongest bond, but there he lay, another friend whisked away in the wind. Taken away from us. Taken away from me. I took a final look at his face, something I would never see again. Sweat streaked, bloodied and bruised. Rough. He always fought against everyone, fought against the world, and he had finally lost. I wondered if he felt ashamed, after losing a fight that long, or if he knew it was coming since the day he was born. Did he knew that he would lose eventually? I wondered if he would have felt ashamed, knowing the Shepard’s saw his demise, knowing we all did. No, I thought suddenly. No. he knew. He knew before he even got to the lot that he was going to die. He knew when he called us. He wanted us to see it. I hoped he would be proud, seeing his name headline tomorrow morning in the newspaper, like I knew it would. I wondered if he would have felt sorry for putting us through the hell I knew we were about to face. No. He wouldn't be. He would have snickered at us and blew out his cigarette smoke. Sorry wasn't in his vocabulary. I looked up and saw Steve on the ground with his head in his hands, Soda standing over him. He was groaning. Darry was slumped over, and Two-Bit looked sick. I turned to the cops. They did this to us.

“You idiots! It wasn't loaded!” I cried angry and frustrated and sad tears, as I started towards the officers, my hand balled into a fist, ready to do what I felt I needed to. My knuckles were clenched white, and my breath was dry and harsh. I knew I was in the wrong, and that they had no way of knowing there were no bullets in the gun, but I didn't care. He was just a kid. A hardened, mean, tough kid, but a kid nonetheless, and I desperately needed someone to blame besides myself. I got up into one of the officers faces, my body shaking as I cried, the hot tears streaming my face. I have no idea what I planned on saying, but Soda rushed towards me and pulled me away before any words could escape my lips that I would regret. I shook his hands off my shoulders. It seemed like the people you are supposed to turn to when everything goes bad are the ones that harm things the most. The cops have never done any good for us Greasers. My ears were ringing and my vision was blurred. I stumbled around for a moment, holding my hands to my head. I just kept mumbling over and over.

“I told him not to carry the gun. I told him. I told him it was dangerous.”

I heard some faint whispers from the Shepards. “Glory, look at the girl!” “She isn't looking too hot.” Did they think I couldn't hear them?

I suddenly felt the urge to get away from the sight, so I did. I ran as hard as I could away from his body, away from the police, away from my brothers. They all yelled and a few of them ran after me, but I was faster, and not in the mindset to listen. Two of my friends had died that night: one a hero, the other a hoodlum. He was a dead juvenile delinquent and there would be no praise for him, no sadness, no sorrow, the exception being us, his learned family. Dally didn't die a hero. He died violent and young and desperate, just like we all knew he’d die someday. Just like Curly Shepard and the hoods we knew would die someday. But Johnny was right, he died gallant. And it all made me realize that time was limited. Someday the world would be without Two-Bit’s quick wit and humor, there will be no hectic boy to make everyone smile. Someday the world would forget all that Darry had sacrificed with so little in return. The world would be empty without Sodapop’s gentle laughs and fiery nature ringing all about. Nobody will remember Pony’s dreamy nature and pure heart. There will be no funny, car smart boy named Steve to help you out at the DX. This town no longer has a rebellious Dallas to run around and cause trouble, and there will be no memory of Johnny, still so kind through it all. Nobody will even remember all the struggle and pain and violence the boy’s I call family went through, and soon they won't even be remembered. I thought about my friends, my brothers.

Steve Randle, only seventeen, tall and lean with thick greasy hair. A good buddy to Sodapop, and the best auto mechanic in Tulsa. A forgotten son. He was cocky and smart. I couldn't imagine him growing old with a family. I couldn't see him changing his ways. Never.

Darrel Curtis, only twenty, tall and muscular. An older brother, a hard worker. He uses his head, but is worn out at such a young age. He wouldn't stay this way forever. We were the only things keeping him from moving up in life, and that he would someday. I could picture him living happily with a family of his own on the nicer side of town with a picket white fence and a decent car. He deserved at least that.

Ponyboy Curtis, only fourteen, small with a good build. A younger brother, a dreamer, quiet. He has seen too much for such a young age. I wasn't sure what would come of him, but whatever it was, he would do great things. He was smart. He would go places. He was too young to feel this hurt. We all were.

Keith Matthews, only eighteen, stocky and tall. He was a thief. He was always wearing a grin, could never stop wisecracking. He always made you feel better. He always tried to lighten the situation, to tell you that everything was okay, but whether he was trying to convince himself or you was unknown. I don't think he would ever settle down. He would get himself in trouble one day, trouble that he couldn't get himself out of.

Sodapop Curtis, only seventeen, slim and average. A brother, a unique personality. Wise, happy go lucky, one of a kind. Sympathetic, a peacemaker, understanding and passionate. The middle child, a hard worker. I don't know if he would ever find someone who cherished his personality as much as his looks.

Johnathan Cade, only sixteen, small and nervous. He was a burden to his parents, but a light in my life. During his time he grew from helpless and scared, and he became more confident in himself. He was sensitive, sensible, and caring. He valued life. I would miss him more than words could describe.

Dallas Winston, only seventeen, tall and tough. Street smart, and bitter towards life. His persona was the work of a lifetime. He didn't know how to handle himself. He did not display his emotions well, but he took a liking to Johnny, he did. Dally was gallant. He was wild, a loner, and glass. He was made of glass but he was reckless, not caring if he broke. Dallas was a free soul and Johnny’s death trapped him, tethered him to the town, and he needed to break free.

I thought this over as I ran, not sure where I was going to go, I just had to go away. I felt panicked and tragic, like I needed something to happen, something to make me feel alive. It was then that I understood Dally, and where he was coming from. But I couldn't make the same mistakes as him, couldn't leave my brothers behind. I was conflicted. I urged for something more. I felt careless, and I needed to push my feelings away, or I was going to explode. I felt like a raging ocean trapped inside a puddle. I needed to get away from myself.

[mocurlyshepard]

The Outsiders as 80's Songs

Johnny- Take Me Home Tonight

Take me home tonight, I dont wanna let you go until you see the light

Johnny wants to be anywhere but home. He feels comfortable away from them. He holds you until the morning because you're the escape. Then he has to face reality

Ponyboy-Time After Time

If you're lost, you can look and you will find me. Time after time

Ponyboy has a heart of gold. No matter what he will always be there for you to help get you through and vice versa.

Dallas-867-5309 Jenny

Jenny jenny who can I turn to. You give me something I can hold on to. I know you'll think I'm like the others before. Who saw your name and number on the wall

Why else? Just kidding. When Dallas gets lost in his thoughts he'll call a random number. It stops his from self harm or something worse. He just so happened to get your number, thinking it was guys you were annoyed, but you ended up talking the whole night.

Two Bit-Come On Eileen

Come on Eileen. Oh, I swear what he means (what he means)At this moment you mean everything. You in that dress. My thoughts I confess. Verge on dirty.

Two Bit had a crush on you but you were Catholic. He was always trying to persuade you to do reckless things without crossing the line. It was an innocent friendship but he couldnt help the thoughts he had.

Steve-Summer of 69

Standin' on your mama's porch. You told me that you'd wait forever. Oh, and when you held my hand. I knew that it was now or never. Those were the best days of my life

Steve often has flashbacks when you told him you were pregnant. He feels guilty for leaving you to persue his dreams. He wishes he could live in those moments before he left you.

Sodapop-heaven is a place on earth

They say in heaven, love comes first. We'll make heaven a place on earth. Ooh, heaven is a place on earth

Soda feels likes he in heaven when he with you. He feels so blessed and theres no other place he would rather be. He never thinks of the bad things, you're the only thing on his mind.

Darry-Livin on Prayer

Woah, we're half way there. Woah, livin on a prayer. Take my hand we'll make it I swear

You and Darry were so tired of saving money. It seemed like once you guys got enough to move out Pony or Soda needed something. You always reassured each other you guys would make it, as long as you guys had each other.

Curly-Pour Some Sugar On Me Jk Dont you forget about me.

Dont you, forget about me. Tell me your troubles and doubts. Giving me everything inside and out and. Love's strange so real in the dark

Curly has a fear of being of being forgotten. When you go away to college, he doesnt want to you to leave him. Especially everything you guys shared with each other. Your deepest secrets and dreams.

Tim-Love Is A Battlefield

We are young. Heartache to heartache, we stand. No promises. No demands. Love is a battlefield. We are strong. No one can tell us we're wrong. Searching our hearts for so long. Both of our hearts knowing.Love is a battlefield

You and Tim are both stubborn. Neither of you admit the feelings you have for each other. Arguments lasted forever and they were ugly. Your friends and his friend told you guys you were no good for each other. But you never listened because in your hearts, you were meant to be.

Cherry- Girls just Wanna have fun

The phone rings in the middle of the night. My father yells what you gonna do with your life. Oh daddy dear you know you're still number one. But girls they wanna have fun. Oh girls just want to have

Cherry spent all her life being serious. When she met you, everything changed. All you guys did was want to have fun. Her parents hated but she was happy to finally let go and live life.

These are some of my favorite 80s songs and I matched them to our greasers. And Cherry ❤ enjoy guys, requests are open! Headcannons, preferences, imagines, one shots, everything!! ☺

I might add Angela later.

[shawwillsuffice]

Every album and song referenced in every book by Hanif Abdurraqib

I decided to put together this list after finishing Hanif’s latest full-length book, They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us: Essays. For those not familiar with Hanif, he’s a poet and essayist who really loves to talk about music. He writes a lot about hip hop, punk, and emo, but I also once texted him out of the blue to ask his opinion of the largely forgotten 90′s boy band O-Town and he had a number of clearly well-thought-out observations ready to go immediately. He writes about music in ways that are simultaneously about other very big things in his life and the society and communities that shaped it. It’s something I deeply appreciate, as a person for whom narrative storytelling is often the only way for me to express the things I’m thinking and feeling, for which simpler words just won’t cut it. His books are about fear, or heartbreak, or gentrification, or religion, or death and mourning, or hope, but they’re also pretty much all about music.

With that in mind, I decided to make it my 2018 New Year’s Resolution to listen to every album and song referenced in his books, and since I had to make this list anyway, I figure I’ll share it in case anyone else wants to do the same, or just wants an exhaustive list of Hanif’s music references for some other reason. 

For clarity’s sake, this list includes songs and albums, but not instances where musical artists are named without reference to any of their actual material. I’ve omitted names of individual songs in cases where the albums they appear on are referenced in the same poem or essay. I’ve also tried to include indirect references that rely on context cues without identifying actual titles or song lyrics, though I’m sure I’ve missed some. 

Of course, if any of this sounds at all interesting, I’d recommend buying the books themselves. The chapbooks are quite hard to find, unfortunately. Vintage Sadness famously sold out in pre-sale, even after the publisher more than doubled the print run due to overwhelming demand, and if there are any copies of Three Crosses or To Ex-Girlfriends to be had anywhere besides my bookshelf, I sure as hell can’t find them. However, both of the full-length books, The Crown Ain’t Worth Much and They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us are still very much available.

Three Crosses (2012)

- The Notorious B.I.G., Life After Death (”And it’s full. Been full. Stays full. Full since that ‘97 summer / When Biggie blared out of everything with windows. Everything that could breathe.”) - Johnny Cash, “Oh Bury Me Not” - Taylor Swift, “Last Kiss” - Michael Jackson, “P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)” - Stevie Wonder, “Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours” (”Michelle Obama loves punk rock music. / Rolls her eyes backstage when Barack picks yet another Stevie Wonder standard to stroll out to during campaign stops.”) - The Clash, “I’m So Bored with the U.S.A.” - The Pogues, Red Roses for Me - Nirvana, In Utero

To Ex-Girlfriends (2014, I think?)

- The Who, “My Generation” - Johnny Cash, “John Henry’s Hammer” - Johnny Cash, “Cocaine Blues” (”In Folsom, they banged on metal tables / when you talked about that .44 you kept under your pillow”) - Jay-Z, Big Pimpin’ - The Notorious B.I.G., “Mo Money Mo Problems” - Diana Ross, “I’m Coming Out” - Johnny Cash, “I Never Picked Cotton” - Jay-Z and Kanye West, “No Church in the Wild” - Against Me!, “Thrash Unreal” - Van Morrison, “Sweet Thing” - Hall & Oates, “Sara Smile” - Hall & Oates, “Rich Girl”

The Crown Ain’t Worth Much (2016)

- Jay-Z, “Where I’m From” - Journey, “Don’t Stop Believin’” - Marvin Gaye, “What’s Going On” (”& he starts in on some marvin & the words ‘brother, brother, brother / there’s far too many of you dying’ crawl from his lips) - Fall Out Boy, “Saturday” - Jay-Z, “Izzo (H.O.V.A.)” (”& Jay-Z called himself Hova / twelve times in one song”) - The Notorious B.I.G., “Mo Money Mo Problems” - Taking Back Sunday, Tell All Your Friends - Nick Drake, “Pink Moon” - The Notorious B.I.G., “N****s Bleed” - Something Corporate, “Konstantine” - Fall Out Boy, “Sugar We’re Goin’ Down” (”We wrote ‘IGNORE YOUR GOD COMPLEX’ in every bathroom stall on campus one of those years even though we knew the right lyrics”) - Kendrick Lamar, good kid, m.A.A.d. city - Whitney Houston, “How Will I Know”  - Third Eye Blind, “Semi-Charmed Life”  - The Temptations, “I Wish It Would Rain” - Nina Simone, “Mississippi Goddamn” - Nina Simone, “Sinnerman” - Nirvana, “Lithium”

Vintage Sadness (2017)

- Blood Orange ft. Carly Rae Jepsen, “Better Than Me” - Kanye West, “Only One”  - Jay-Z and Kanye West, “No Church in the Wild” - Duran Duran, “Girls On Film” - Carly Rae Jepsen, “E*Mo*Tion” - Ginuwine, “Pony” - The Four Seasons, “December, 1963 (Oh What a Night)” - Jay-Z and Kanye West, “Illest Motherfucker Alive” - Aaliyah, “Rock the Boat”  - Soul Decision, “Faded” - Nirvana, “Smells Like Teen Spirit” - Guns N’ Roses, “Welcome to the Jungle” - Kelis, “Milkshake” - Jay-Z, “Izzo (H.O.V.A.)” - Bone Thugs N Harmony, “Crossroads” - Next, “Too Close” - Olivia Newton John, “Let’s Get Physical” - Cutting Crew, “(I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight” - Soul II Soul, “However Do You Want Me”  - Jay-Z and Kanye West, “N****s in Paris”

They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us (2017)

- The U.S. National Anthem - Bruce Springsteen, “Born in the U.S.A.” - Lil Uzi Vert, “XO TOUR Llif3″ - Fetty Wap, “Trap Queen” - Chance the Rapper, Coloring Book - The Social Experiment, “Sunday Candy” - Chance the Rapper, Acid Rap - Drake, Views - Bruce Springsteen, The River - Carly Rae Jepsen, E*Mo*Tion - Carly Rae Jepsen, “Call Me Maybe” - Semisonic, “Closing Time” - Marcy Playground, “Sex and Candy” - Prince, “Baby, I’m a Star” - Bob Dylan, “All Along the Watchtower” - Foo Fighters, “Best of You” - Prince, “Purple Rain” - ScHoolboy Q, Oxymoron - The Notorious B.I.G., “N****s Bleed” - The Weeknd, Kiss Land - The Weeknd, House of Balloons - The Weeknd, Thursday - The Weeknd, Echoes of Silence - Marvin Gaye, What’s Going On - NOFX, “Don’t Call Me White” - Brand New, “Sic Transit Gloria... Glory Fades” - The Wonder Years, Suburbia I’ve Given You All And Now I’m Nothing - The Wonder Years, The Greatest Generation - The Wonder Years, No Closer to Heaven - Constellations, Alpha - Twenty One Pilots, Regional At Best - Rihanna, “Work” - Cute Is What We Aim For, The Same Old Blood Rush with a New Touch - Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Blank Generation - My Chemical Romance, The Black Parade - My Chemical Romance, May Death Never Stop You - My Chemical Romance, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - Defiance, Ohio, Share What Ya Got - Defiance, Ohio, The Great Depression - Fall Out Boy, Folie a Deux - Fall Out Boy, “Saturday” - Fall Out Boy, Infinity on High - Fall Out Boy, From Under the Cork Tree - Bobby Womack, “If You Think You’re Lonely Now” - Fall Out Boy, “Dead On Arrival” - Three 6 Mafia, “Star Fly” - Willie Hutch, “Tell Me Why Has Our Love Turned Cold” - Michael Jackson, Thriller - Ice Cube, AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted - Kendrick Lamar, To Pimp a Butterfly - The Impressions, “People Get Ready” - “The Gospel Train” - “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” - Sam Cooke, “A Change Is Gonna Come” - “Wade in the Water” - Foxx, “Wipe Me Down” - Webbie, Savage Life 2 - Lil Boosie, Incarcerated - Boosie Badazz, Touch Down 2 Cause Hell - Fleetwood Mac, Fleetwood Mac - Fleetwood Mac, Rumours - Atmosphere, When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold - The Notorious B.I.G., Life After Death - Diana Ross, “I’m Coming Out” - Big Pun, “Still Not a Player” - Bertolt Brecht and Elisabeth Hauptmann, The Threepenny Opera - Nina Simone, Nina Simone In Concert - Nina Simone, “Baltimore” - Nina Simone, “Sinnerman” - Lupe Fiasco, Food and Liquor - Migos, Culture - Migos, Juug Season - Migos, “Versace” - “When the Saints Go Marching In” - Johnny Cash, “Folsom Prison Blues” - Johnny Cash, At Folsom Prison - Johnny Cash, “Hurt” - N.W.A., Straight Outta Compton - Ice Cube, “No Vaseline” - 3rd Bass, “Pop Goes the Weasel” - Bone Thugs N Harmony, “Thug Love” - Bubba Sparxxx, Deliverance - Asher Roth, RetroHash - Asher Roth, “I Love College” (”Saw him in 2015 at some festival and a drunk white woman kept yelling at him to play the college song.”) - Macklemore, The Heist - Kendrick Lamar, good kid, m.A.A.d. city - Macklemore, This Unruly Mess I’ve Made - Future, Honest - Future, Dirty Sprite 2 - Future and Drake, What a Time to Be Alive - Future, Evol - Future, Beast Mode - Future, 56 Nights - Future, Purple Reign - Future, Future - Future, HNDRXX

[lucygloom753-blog]

Everything Johnny Cade says in the book.

“Leave her alone, Dally.”

“You sure didn’t show it. Nobody talks to Dally like that.”

“Sixteen.”

“How come y’all ain’t scared of us like you were Dally?”

“Dally’s okay. He’s tough, but he’s a cool old guy.”

“Hey, Two-Bit.”

“Aw, cut it out! Dally was bothering them and when he left they wanted us to sit with them to protect them. Against wisecracking greasers like you, probably.”

“Soda?”

“There was a whole bunch of them. A blue Mustang full...I got so scared..”

“Your boyfriends?”

“Gee, I thought you and Darry and Soda got along real well...”

“It’s the truth. I don’t care.”

“It’s because we’re greasers. We could have hurt her reputation.”

“Man, that was a tuff car. Mustangs are tuff.”

“I can’t take much more. I’ll kill myself or something.”

“Well, I won’t. But I gotta do something. It seems like there’s gotta be someplace without greasers or Socs, with just people. Plain, ordinary people.”

“Ponyboy. Hey, Pony, wake up.”

“I don’t know. I went to sleep, too, listening to you rattle on and on. You’d better get home I think I’ll stay all night out here.

“Okay.”

“Easy, Ponyboy. We’ll be okay.”

“Well, don’t be. You’re scarin’ me. What happened? I never seen you bawl like that.”

“I think I like it better when the old man’s hittin’ me. At least then I know he knows who I am. I walk in that house, and nobody says anything. I walk out, and nobody says anything. I stay away all night, and nobody notices. At least you got Soda. I ain’t got nobody.”

“It ain’t the same as having your own folks care about you. It just ain’t the same.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“Ain’t you about to freeze to death, Pony?”

“I don’t know. But I bet they’re looking for us. We picked up their girls.”

“It’s too late now. Here they come.”

“You’re outa your territory. You’d better watch it.”

“I killed him. I killed that boy.”

“Go ahead. I won’t look at you.”

“Yeah. I had to. They were drowning you, Pony. They might have killed you. And they had a blade...they were gonna be me up...”

“Yeah. Like they did before.”

“They ran when I stabbed him. They all ran.”

“Calm down, Ponyboy. Get ahold of yourself.”

“We gotta get outa here. Get somewhere. Run away. The police’ll be here soon. We’ll need money. And maybe a gun. And a plan.”

“Dally. Dally’ll get us outa here.”

“I think at Buck Merril’s place. There’s a party over there tonight. Dally said somethin’ about it this afternoon.”

“Dally! We gotta see Dally.”

“We figured you could get us out if anyone could. I’m sorry we got you away from the party.”

“Wish I had me a weed.”

“Sure, Dally, thanks.”

“Now.”

“The first stop’ll be Windrixville. I don’t see why he gave me this. I couldn’t shoot anybody.”

“Blast it, Ponyboy. You must have put my legs to sleep. I can’t even stand up. I barely got off that train.”

“That’s okay. I didn’t want to wake you up until I had to.”

“Go ask someone. The story won’t be in the paper yet. Make like a farm boy taking a walk or something.”

“I’ll have to stay here. You go down the road and ask the first person you see where Jay Mountain is. Then come back. And for Pete’s sake, run a comb through your hair and quit slouching down like a thug.”

“You know, you look an awful lot like Sodapop, the way you’ve got your hair and everything. I mean, except your eyes are green.”

“Shoot, you are too.”

“I swear, Ponyboy, you’re gettin’ to act more like Two-Bit every day.”

“Come on inside. Dally told us to stay inside.”

“A week’s supply of baloney, two loaves of bread, a box of matches...”

“I remembered you sayin’ something about it once. And me and you went to see that movie, ‘member? I thought you could maybe read it out loud and help kill time or something.”

“We’re gonna cut our hair, and you’re gonna bleach yours. They’ll have our descriptions in the paper. We can’t fit ‘em.”

“We’d have to anyway if we got caught. You know the first thing a judge does is make you get a haircut.”

“I don’t know either—it’s just a way of trying to break us. They can’t really do anything to guys like Curly Shepard or Tim; they’ve had about everything done to them. And they can’t take anything away from them because they don’t have anything in the first place. So they cut their hair.”

“Oh, come on, Ponyboy. It’ll grow back.”

“No. We gotta bleach it first.”

“Cut the front and thin out the rest. I’ll comb it back after I wash it.”

“Go ahead and cut it.”

“I guess—I guess we’re disguised.”

“Oh, shoot. It’s just hair.”

“Well, we got to get used to it. We’re in big trouble and it’s our looks or us.”

“I’m sorry I cut off your hair, Ponyboy.”

“I know. Things have been happening so fast...”

“Two-Bit shoulda been in that little one-horse store. Man, we’re in the middle of nowhere; the nearest house is two miles away. Things were layin’ out wide open, just waitin’ for somebody slick like Two-Bit to come and pick ‘em up. He coulda walked out with half the store. Good ol’ Two-Bit.”

“Stop it! Shut up about last night! I killed a kid last night. He couldn’t of been over seventeen or eighteen, and I killed him. How’d you like to live with that?”

“I didn’t mean to, but they was drownin’ you, and I was so scared...There sure is a lot of blood in people.”

“This is my fault for bringin’ a thirteen-year-old kid along. You ought to go home. You can’t get into any trouble. You didn’t kill him.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Ponyboy. Don’t cry, Pony, we’ll be okay. Don’t cry...”

“Yeah.”

“Nope. We’re all cried out now. We’re gettin’ used to the idea. We’re gonna be okay now.”

“I bet they were cool ol’ guys. They remind me of Dally.”

“Yeah...in the manners bit, and the charm, too, I guess. But one night I saw Dally gettin’ picked up by the fuzz, and he kept real cool and calm the whole time. They was gettin’ him for breakin’ out the windows in the school building, and it was Two-Bit who did that. And Dally knew it. But he just took the sentence without battin’ an eye or even denyin’ it. That’s gallant.”

“Golly. That sure is pretty.”

“The mist was what was pretty. All gold and silver.”

“Too bad it couldn’t stay like that all the time.”

“What?”

“Where’d you learn that? That was what I meant.”

“You know, I never noticed colors and clouds and stuff until you kept reminding me about them. It seems like they were never there before. Your family sure is funny.”

“I didn’t mean nothing. I meant, well, Soda kinda looks like your mother did, but he acts just exactly like your father. And Darry is the spittin’ image of your father, but he ain’t wild and laughing all the time like he was. He acts like your mother. And you don’t act like either one.”

“Yeah. I guess we’re different.”

“You’re starved?”

“Yeah. Whatever gave you the idea we ain’t?”

“You sure can cuss good, Dally.”

“You’d better believe it.”

“Gee, it sure will be good to get into a car again.”

“A spy? Who?”

“Cherry? The Soc?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re goin’ back and turn ourselves in.”

“I said we’re goin’ back and turn ourselves in.”

“I got a good chance of bein’ let off easy. I ain’t got no record with the fuzz and it was self-defense. Ponyboy and Cherry can testify to that. And I don’t aim to stay in that church all my life.”

“We won’t tell that you helped us, Dally, and we’ll give you back the gun and what’s left of the money and say we hitchhiked back so you won’t get into trouble. Okay?”

“I’m sure. It ain’t fair for Ponyboy to have to stay up in that church with Darry and Soda worryin’ about him all the time. I don’t guess...I don’t guess my parents are worried about me or anything?”

“My parents, did they ask about me?”

“I was scared. I still am. I guess we ruined our hair for nothing, Ponyboy.”

“Would you rather have me living in hide-outs for the rest of my life, always on the run?”

“Hey, Ponyboy.”

“The window stopped him.”

‘Naw...Too fat.”

“Where’s the kids?”

“Shut up! We’re goin’ to get you out!”

“Get out!”

“Hey, y’all.”

“Don’t...don’t let me put enough grease on my hair. “

“He came by.”

“Came to see Dally.”

“Tuff enough.”

“The book—can you get another one?”

“Yeah, it just hurts sometimes. It usually don’t...I can’t feel anything below the middle of my back...”

“I’m pretty bad off, ain’t I, Pony?”

“I won’t be able to walk again. Not even on crutches. Busted my back.”

“You want to know something, Ponyboy? I’m scared stiff. I used to talk about killing myself...I don’t want to die now. It ain’t long enough. Sixteen years ain’t long enough. I wouldn’t mind it so much if there wasn’t so much I ain’t done yet and so many things I ain’t seen. It’s not fair. You know what? That time we were in Windrixville was the only time I’ve been away from our neighborhood.”

“I don’t want to see her.”

“I said I don’t want to see her. She’s probably come to tell me about all the trouble I’m causing her and about how glad her and the old man’ll be when I’m dead. Well, tell her to leave me alone. For once—for once just to leave me alone.”

“Hey.”

“Useless...fighting’s no good...”

“Ponyboy.”

Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold.”