#prayer curtis

[sodascherrycola]

Lucky Patrick Curtis (Teen: 1975-1981)

DOB: November 11th 1962 Age: 62 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Luck, Luke S/O: Nicole Alderman Kids: Sarah, Vincent, and Xavier Best Friend(s): Dennis Morrison and John Delve Aesthetic: Lucky was a pretty wild child. He had his father’s energy and optimism that Sarah loved so. His parents were extremely young when he was born, 14 years old, and it was difficult to grow up along side them. Lucky would tag along with his mama when she went to school (something she dreaded) and eventually to work once she graduated. Sodapop didn’t want her to drop out like he had, wanted to see her make something of herself. Sarah Jane did not want to stay, stating that if he was dropping out to support the family, so could she. She didn’t drop out. Lucky was the only child for 4 years and when his little sister Magnolia was born, it was safe to say he was in love. He followed her and their mother around daily, wanted to help in anyway he could. Lucky was a good, kind hearted boy all away around. When he was in high school, he became the popular guy. Luck was always going to parties and getting wasted on the weekend with the boys. It stressed his mother out to no degree, but he always knew how to charm his way out of trouble. When he was 16 he got his now wife pregnant. His parents chewed him out, expecting him to learn from their “mistake”. When his little girl, Sarah, was born he turned his life around. He was beginning to get good grades, got back into the graces with his teachers and coaches. He became a big New York lawyer later on, total 80s wall street yuppie.

Magnolia Anne Curtis (Teen: 1979-1985)

DOB: February 19th 1966 Age: 58 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Mag, Maggie S/O: Alec Vaughn Kids: Anneliese and George Best Friend(s): Carrie Workington, Louisa May, and Sofia Palome Aesthetic: Magnolia was always seen as super mature for her age. It may be due to her young parents, or her father’s enlistment, or her older brother’s advice instilled. No one knows where it came from, definitely not her parents. She was very smart and even skipped a couple grades. It was her father’s job to help with homework while her mother cooked dinner. A lot of nights crying at the table, not from her though. Magnolia used to distance herself from her family. She was very independent and never wanted help from her parents. It didn’t help that she resented her parents from being so young. The kids in her grade would whisper about her, that she was weird, a shotgun baby. She despised her parents. Sarah Jane constantly tried to talk to her baby about this, but it was difficult to get anything out of Maggie. Stubborn as a nail she was. Soda began taking his girl out for daddy daughter dinners, which consisted of strawberry ice cream and McDonald's burgers. His wife wasn’t even upset of these outings, praying that it would work. Magnolia eventually opened up on one of those daddy daughter dates. Maggie cried, Soda cried, and even Sarah did when she got the re-telling at bedtime. It worked though, and Maggie grew closer to her parents and siblings. She even still goes out with her daddy for dinners every Thursday.

Forrest David Curtis (Teen: 1982-1988)

DOB: February 9th 1969 Age: 55 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Woody S/O: Natalie Berryman Kids: Oliver and Aurora Best Friend(s): Isaac Brooks Aesthetic: Forrest was a very easy baby. He rarely cried and was easily as good if his older brother was there in the room with him. He was obsessed with Lucky, thought he hung the moon. When he was in high school, he became friends with Isaac Brooks, and became involved in some not good things. He started smoking with him after school and whenever he could. His father once caught him and asked for a hit, but told him that he wouldn’t tell his mother. Woody thought that his dad would lose his mind over the recreational drug use, being a veteran and all that, but no. Sodapop told him that he used to smoke this stuff in the war, to “relax”. It became a regular thing for the two. Going out every couple of nights to smoke on the porch or in a random parking lot (do not smoke and drive!) and simply just talk about everything and anything. This was their bonding experience. He won two tickets to a pearl jam concert when he was seventeen and the first person he asked was his dad. They went and came back reeking of the drug and Sarah Jane had grounded them both, how she grounded her own husband, no one knows. Woody and Sodapop were each others best friends.

Romeo Preston Curtis (Teen: 1985-1991)

DOB: December 31st 1972 Age: 52 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Ro, Rome, Romey S/O: Rachel Carter Kids: Cassandra and Dylan Best Friend(s): Joseph Matthews and Aaron Curtis Aesthetic: Romeo was extremely quiet. He barely spoke, in fact didn’t speak one word until he was two years old. His first word was “no lux” when his older brother, Lucky, was tickling him to no ends. Romey was as shy as they come, Soda found him so hard to understand his young son, being certainly eccentric and outgoing himself. He loved his birthday, he got extra presents (as much as his parents could afford) and he got to be cocky to his siblings. He was his mother’s favourite, adoring her quiet Christmas present. He reminded her so much if Sodapop, not exactly with his personality, but his attitude and looks. He was very handsome and very polite and respectful to others, something Sarah Jane admired in both her boys. One Thanksgiving, Soda’s family came over and as the women were cooking dinner and gossiping, the boys were playing tackle football in the yard. Rome watched from the kitchen window with his mother until his Aunt Katherine encouraged him to join the brother’s outside. Romeo learned how to play football with his dads and uncles and quickly became involved with the sport on school teams. His family went to every game until he decided to change over to lacrosse instead. He excelled at lacrosse much more than he ever did football. He was very popular with the girls, but he didn’t notice it. He was overall a very polite and athletic kid.

Charity Dove Curtis (Teen: 1987-1993)

DOB: July 7th 1974 Age: 50 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Char, Love, Lovie S/O: Damien Sinclair Kids: Ashley, Eric, and Loren Best Friend(s): James Winston Aesthetic: Charity was the IT girl in school. She was very proud of who she was the minute she was born. It didn’t help her ego that her daddy worshipped the ground she walked on, gave her everything imaginable. She was a cheerful and loving young girl, wearing the best dresses her mother could make with old scrap fabric. Charity Curtis was the best dressed girl in all of McAlester and everyone knew it. She loved performing in local beauty contests and was a debutante when she was 15. Her southern accent increased her charm, many people admiring this toddler with the heaviest accent in all off the south. Sometimes she talked too fast and it was hard to understand what exactly she was saying, all her words mumbled together. Her special talent was and will always be her cheerleading. She was captain of her cheerleading squad in high school (just like Sarah Jane mind you) and was her team’s fly girl. She later went on to win many more championships and beauty competitions, earning her the spot of Miss Southern, Miss U.S.A, AND Miss Universe respectively. Her parents couldn’t be more proud of their gorgeous sweet daughter. When she met Damien, it was love at first sight. Her daddy was sceptical of him, but when was he not? He just wanted to protect his little girl from the harm of the outside world, and that included boys. The two actually grew to like each other, but Soda would never admit to that.

Prayer Thomas Curtis (Teen: 1990-1996)

DOB: May 18th 1977 Age: 47 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Pray, PT S/O: Sophie Anderson Kids: Ryan, Ethan, and Brady Best Friend(s): Brandon Winston and Shawn Curtis Aesthetic: Prayer was a very helpful kid. He always offered to help his mother win any housework that needed to be done. Prayer was his parents go to babysitter per his own request. He love his little siblings and cousins and decided that if his parents or aunt needs a little help, why couldn’t he? Prayer would also walk his dad’s lunch to the garage on his way to school if his father forgot to pick it up before leaving for work. Sometimes Sodapop would let his son stay a little longer to talk to customers and encourage him to actually engage with the work itself. Prayer loved PB&J’s, he would eat it for every meal every day if his mother would allow him. When he was a teenager his mom told him that he was old enough to do his own chores like his older siblings and one of his chores was packing his own lunches. Every lunch was a PB&J. Every. Single. One. Maybe a side of lays and a soda. He ate terribly growing up but still stayed very fit, probably from all the running around he did, clearly from all the sugar that was in his sandwiches each day.

Cola Robert Curtis (Teen: 1993-1999)

DOB: January 23rd 1980 Age: 44 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Cole, Coley S/O: Amelia Boone Kids: Benson, Louis, and Elijah Best Friend(s): Kyle Randle Aesthetic: Cola hated his name. He knew that his family was known for their ridiculous names, but he thought he had the absolute worst of them all. Cola. How stupid is that he thought. He refused to be called Cola outside of his house (or even in it for that matter) only Cole was allowed. Cole was embarrassed by his name, his family, and his money. They weren’t exactly poor, but they weren’t rich by any means. He was very preppy and popular in high school, being on the football team and being an honour’s roll student throughout his academic career. Cole tried his damn best to separate himself from the rest of his family. His mother understood where he was coming from to an extent, in a way that his optimistic father could never. She knew how he could feel embarrassed by their finances and names. She knew she named her children uncommon and unique names, it was done on purpose, for her husband’s sake. She knew that when her and Soda got married, they were so in love she couldn’t tell that they were poor. Not until she ran into some old soc friends and they buried her alive with her new status in the world. Cole never truly recovered from the embarrassment and bullying he went through in his childhood, still tried to block out his past and family to the rest of the world.

Angel Love Curtis (Teen: 1993-1999)

DOB: January 23rd 1980 Age: 44 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Ange, Angie, Lovie S/O: Paul Mercante Kids: Daniela, Isabel, Ellie, and Rosalie Best Friend(s): Francesca Bough Aesthetic: Angel was a beautiful girl and she knew it. Much like her older sister, Charity, she was told often times told how gorgeous she truly was. Angie started modelling in 1992 when she was 12 years old. By the time she was 17 years old, she was booking jobs with Tommy Hilfiger, Guess, and Michael Kors. She had met Paul Mercante in kindergarten and he was her first boyfriend if you will. She started having play dates with him and best believe Soda and Steve had a field day trying to figure out this 5 year old boy. He took her to their first school dance in middle school and he ended up dancing with Rachel Burnes and Angel had come home sobbing. Her twin brother, Cole, was ready to punch a kid out. It was actually Sodapop who had been the one to talk the boy down while his wife was upstairs with his other daughters calming his youngest daughter. They got back together in 11th grade and ended up getting married when she was 22 years old. Angel, at her best, was modelling for Givenchy, Dior, Dolce & Gabbana, and was even the spokesperson for Chanel. She got so famous and so excited that she had bought her parents a house when she was 25 years old.

Valentine Waylon Curtis (Teen: 1996-2002)

DOB: February 14th 1983 Age: 41 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Val, Valey S/O: Aimee Bowen Kids: Camren, Aidan, Alyssa, and Hailee Best Friend(s): Ethan Cade and Matthew Winston Aesthetic: Valentine , being the second youngest, was very funny. He learned that he was never going to be as smart as Cola or Lucky and that he was never going to be as handsome as Prayer or Romeo. He decided to be the funny one. He knew how to make people laugh, had an interesting way of making conversation and storytelling. He could talk for hours and hours on end. He was always very cheerful this one. Val hated seeing anyone upset, it hurt him deep down to find a person crying especially his own family. Valentine was very good with his younger brother Blessing. Blessing was a whey baby, crying every 5 minutes, and it bothered his mama, which in turn bothered him. Val would run to his room, pick out the most ridiculous outfit and prance around in front of his baby brother's playpen until he would giggle. Growing up, he was always compared to his Uncle Two, people reminding him that he was funny and handsome, a new word used to describe him. As he entered middle school, he noticed that he might actually be attractive. Val didn't realise his beauty. He believed that he was the most homely looking out of all his brothers, but his mama always noted his relationship to his father, THE Sodapop Curtis. Girls then started to flock to him, but because of his inner insecurities, he never knew how to talk to them. He could make all the jokes he wanted, make a fool of himself, they would eventually turn the other way because they thought him weird. Val turned to his father for advice, which didn't work due to the massive age gap. There was one last option if Valentine would ever want a wife in the future…Prayer Curtis himself. He was embarrassed to ask for help, but Prayer was actually pretty chill about it. After the advice he received from his older brother, he started seeing Aimee Bowen and the rest was history.

Blessing River Curtis (Teen: 1998-2004)

DOB: August 20th 1985 Age: 39 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Bless, B, Riv S/O: Casey Moss Kids: Connor and Bailey Best Friend(s): Erick Bishop, Kevin Parrish, and Clayton Ibarra Aesthetic: Blessing was exactly what his name says. His parents were told, due to their age, that they couldn't have children anymore. The two were okay with this, thinking they were done 4 children ago anyway. Sarah Jane, the woman she is, believed that God has a plan for everyone, and that all of her children are miracles in their own right. When she fell pregnant for the 9th time in 1984, she knew this was a sign from God. It was a tough and terrible pregnancy for the whole family involved. In fact, Katherine Curtis ended up making her way down to McAlester to help her younger sister-in-law through the journey of it all. When her son was born, she had already had his named picked out from the beginning, whether he be a boy or a girl. Blessing was her baby's name. This name, he hated. When he was in grade school, his name was brought up in many bullies conversations and teasings. Blessing was a girl's name and a weird one at that. Blessing became very isolated with everyone. He started going by River because River Phoenix made it cool somewhat. As he got older he was just used to being called Riv or River. That was until Casey Moss came up to him in history class and said "Blessing Curtis, right?". He almost had a heart attack. This when he got comfortable being referred to as Blessing. Yes, people still made fun of him, but it didn't matter anymore. Casey Moss knew his name. Sarah was ecstatic when she met the girl that made her come out of his shell. She was planning their wedding before the two even admitted their love for each other. Blessing was very athletic, finding himself juggling Football, Baseball, AND lacrosse all at once one school year. He got scouted in 2002, and he got a full ride scholarship to Colombia University on Football.

[thatsrightice]

We had a month's training in Boise, Idaho, a month in Wendover, Utah, and a month in Sioux City, lowa. Either because our training was inadequate or because I was not fitted for the job, I had little reason to develop confidence about my ability as a navigator. On Christmas Eve, 1942, our plane took off from Wendover, Utah, the weather closed in, our gas ran out, and we crash-landed in the snowy mountains of western Wyoming. No one was hurt, testimony to the high skill of John Brady.

When a woman saw the smashed plane, she asked, "Which of you is the Scot?"

"I am Scotch-Irish," I said. "Will that do?"

"Yes," she said. "Scots are lucky. That's why none of you got killed.”

Later she gave me a sprig of Scotch heather and said, "Keep this and you will always be lucky."

I wish that the woman-her husband was vice president of the bank of Evanston, Wyoming-gave the rest of the crew a good luck charm.

— Harry Crosby in his memoir, A Wing and a Prayer

[songbirdstew]

Curtis: *catching me buying the 16 pack of frozen White Castle when I'm the only one who likes them* Um.

Me: If we had an actual White Castle in town, I would be there roughly every 26.5 days.

[jerrylewis-thekid]

"The Clown's Prayer" taken from the Italian film "The most comical show in the world" of 1953, parody of the homonymous film directed by Cecil B. DeMille in 1952. The "prayer" however was written and recited by Antonio De Curtis aka Totò, protagonist of the Italian film and the greatest Italian comedian. Unfortunately he didn't have the international success he deserved partly because he didn't speak English partly because in Italy there is no American star system that first creates and then destroys. I translate the text into English but I share the video taken from the film with Totò reciting the prayer. All true comedians consider themselves clowns and all true comedians have a serious and sad side of character. EVERYONE. And there's nothing wrong with that, on the contrary, it just denotes the presence of a big heart.

The prayer of the clown ❤️

"We thank you our good Protector for giving us the strength to put on the most beautiful show in the world today too. You who protect men, animals and stalls, you who make lions as docile as men and men as brave as lions, you that every evening you lend angels' wings to the acrobats, ensure that bread and applause will never be lacking on our table. We ask for your protection, but if we are not worthy of it, if some misfortune should happen to us, let it happen after the show and, in any case, remember to save the beasts and the children first. You who allow dwarfs and giants to be equally happy, you who are the real, the only net of our dangerous exercises, grant that at no time of the Our life may lack a tent, a runway and a reflector. Look at us from the nails of our women, for we look at those of the tigers, give us the strength to make men laugh again, to bear their deafening laughter serenely and let go that they think we are happy. The more I feel like crying, the more men have fun, but it doesn't matter, I forgive them, partly because they don't know, partly for love of you, and partly because they paid for the ticket. If my antics serve to ease their pains, make this face of mine even more ridiculous, but help me carry it around with ease. There are so many people who enjoy making humanity cry, we have to suffer to amuse them; send, if you can, someone in this world capable of making me laugh as I make others laugh." @kingdc2017 @starryyide

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Prologue\?)

(summarry: the second daughter of king Viserys caught the hearts of many, but none more than her dear uncle. and daemon will do everything in his power to make sure no one takes his sweet niece.)

this is my first fic and I have dylexia so do be kind and give constructive criticism! thank you!

106 ac

 Viserys POV

I stood outside the room hearing my wife scream as she gave birth to our newest child. Aemma had gone into labor that night and now it is midday. I keep praying to the gods to keep my wife and babe safe. I'm not sure which ones anymore, the seven, the fourteen, or the old gods, I suppose any that will hear me and answer. Otto walked up to me and cringed at my wife’s screams. “Your grace, your brother has arrived just now. His dragon was seen landing at the pits.” Otto says tensely. He never has liked my brother, always thought him too rash and chaotic.

“Thank you, Otto. Do be sure to get him and my daughter when the babe is born.” I say as I flinch at the bloodcurdling scream my wife makes. Otto nods and walks off to continue his duties as I wait for my newest child. After thirty minutes I hear my wife’s screams stop and a babes cries. A midwife opens the door and turns to me. “Another girl, your grace.” she says as she curtys and holds the door open to me.

“She’s perfect Viserys. Oh so perfect.” Aemma says as she looks down at the bundle in her arms. “Would you like to meet her?” She asks once she notices I’m frozen at the door. At her words I rushed over to sit next to her and kiss her sweaty brow. I reach out and take our new daughter and look down at her. “Isn’t she perfect, Viserys?” Aemma says as she touches our daughter's nose and we laugh as she scrunches her face at the action. 

“Yes, the most perfect thing I've ever seen.” I say smiling. I then remember all of the others we’ve lost and look up at the maester. “Healthy?” I asked fearfully. “Kicking like a goat, your grace.” he says and I can't help but laugh from relief. “Good, good.” I say smiling. Myself and Aemma sit there just looking at this beautiful creature we made, we’re so enthralled we don’t notice the midwives and maesters cleaning my wife, the room, the bedding or them leaving. 

When our eldest enters I smile at her. Rhaenyra rushes over to me and Aemma and climbs into the bed sitting between us. “I got my sister? Is that her? Can I hold her? What’s her name?” Rhaenyra asks us so quickly we hardly understand her, We both can't help but laugh. “Yes this is your sister, yes you can hold her, and no we haven’t picked a name yet.” Aemma responds as she strokes her hair affectionately and I set our newest in Rhaenyra’s lap.

Once Rhaenyra looks down she scrunches up her face in disgust. “She’s so boring! How am I supposed to play with her when she’s boring?” Rhaenyra says furiously as she pushes the babe off her lap, gets off the bed and storms out. Aemma thankfully had quick reflexes as she picked up our youngest before she got hurt. Aemma and I sigh in disappointment at our eldest’s attitude. “She’ll come around.” I say but from the look I’m given we both know I don't believe my own words. Nonetheless Aemma nods and smiles at my effort. 

We sit there for the next hour brainstorming names till Aemma says your name, and it’s perfect. That is when we hear a knock at the door “Come!” I say and see that it’s my brother wishing to meet his new niece. “Ah, Daemon come, come.'' I say as Aemma holds out our babe for Daemon to take. Once he does I can’t believe my eyes, it’s like he’s finally calm. I watch as my brother’s shoulders drop like all the weight has been lifted from them. And that’s when he asks your name to which we tell him, when he says your name it”s like a prayer, like he can finally breathe. This reaction is so contradictory to when he met Rhaenyra, he wanted nothing to do with her and avoided her like the plague. Although I suppose when Rhaenyra was born he was only a boy of eight, but still this reaction feels more than just him being older and wiser.

That night I went to check on my newest, but when I was about to enter the nursery I heard Daemon singing a song of old Valyrian as he held her close. “Drakari pykiros tikummo jemiros, yn lantyz bartossa saelot vāedis. Hen ñuhā elēnī, perzyssy vestretis se gēlȳn irūdaks ānogrose. Perzyro  udrȳssi ezīmptos laehossi, hārossa letagon aōt vāedan. Hae mērot gierūli, se hāros bartossi prūmȳsa sōvīli gevī dāerī.” I listen and watch, I’ve never seen my brother this way, not ever. I keep telling myself it’s cause he’s older and wiser and wishes for children of his own, but somewhere deep inside, I know I’m wrong.

Special thanks to my lovely friend @sugutoad for making the header! I am personally in love done know about you guys!

[whenmemorydies]

The Claw, The Scrunchie and The Prayer Card: Part 2 (Timing)

A couple weeks ago, I posted a prediction on the significance of the hair claw, the scrunchie and the prayer card that appear in Carmy's apartment in season 3. In that analysis, I suggested that these items represent three particular characters on the show and Carmy's relationships with them (FYI: the hair claw = Natalie, the scrunchie = Sydney and the prayer card = Richie). We see the scrunchie and the prayer card together at the end of 3x09 Apologies, placed in the same spot in Carmy's apartment. The first and last time we see the hair claw however, is in 3x01 Tomorrow, the first episode of the season.

In their reblog of The Claw, The Scrunchie and The Prayer Card meta, @moodyeucalyptus queried why we didn't see the hair claw with the scrunchie and the prayer card at the end of 3x09. I had my suspicions about this, but it wasn't until recently that I think I've come to a clearer understanding about the separate presentations of these items in season 3 and what the timing of their appearances means, particularly for Carmy's relationship with Nat and with his birth family.

Natalie is haunting Carmy

Or rather, the Berzatto family is haunting Carmy. Let me explain.

We see the hair claw in Carmy's apartment in the first episode of season 3. I think its early appearance in the season is for two reasons:

The first is that the hair claw is a legerdemain, meant to look like a token of Claire's given its appearance in 3x01 in between scenes of Claire at home and at work. I think the purpose of this sleight of hand was to misdirect the viewer's attention to Carmy's love life from the outset and misleadingly establish it as the primary source of his mental anguish this season. As I've noted here, I don't think Claire is the main source of Carmy's anguish.

In fact, it seems pretty clear that Claire herself is a legerdemain: a stand in for Carmy's relationship with The Berzattos. This has been discussed in various places on Tumblr including in this fantastic post by @brokenwinebox contrasting shots of Donna/Donna with Carmy and Claire/Claire with Carmy, as well as in this *chefs kiss* comparison between shots of Claire and the Berzattos done by @currymanganese. I also had a theory where I posited that Claire is a reverse-engineered haunt, maintained by Carmy to keep his brother Mikey in his life, after the latter's death.

We also have this LA Times article in which The Bear's Andrew Wehde (cinematographer) and Joanna Calo (showrunner, executive producer, writer and director) say the following:

All of the above is to say that Claire and her relationship with Carmy seriously appear to be sleights of hand masking the truth of the main source of Carmy's anguish: his birth family.

Which brings us back to the hair claw, which, as I've said here, I believe belongs to Carmy's sister, Natalie Berzatto.

If we are working on the basis that the hair claw belongs to Carmy's sister and not Claire, lets get to the second reason that we see it in 3x01 and not with the scrunchie and prayer card in 3x09.

First, we need to note that Carmy's relationship with the owner of this hair claw - Natalie - is inextricably linked to his relationship with his birth family, the Berzattos. Natalie is his biological sister from that family and she's also the ONLY Berzatto family member that Carmy is seen having any contact with in the present after returning to Chicago to run The Beef in season 1.

Indeed, according to Jamie Lee Curtis, Carmy hasn't seen his mother Donna, the only other surviving member of his immediate family (that we've met on the show) since the events of 2x06 Fishes, approximately 5-6 years ago (given the events in season 3 appear to take place in 2023).

By the time we get to 3x01, Carmy's relationship with the Berzattos (including with Natalie) has had a lifetime of impact on him due, among other things, to an intergenerational history of abuse and trauma. Indeed, right before we see the hair claw in 3x01, we see Carmy staring down at the scar on his hand - a scar that @thoughtfulchaos773 has concluded Carmy got on the day he learned about his brother Mikey's suicide - another visual reminder of Carmy's family and the shadow it casts over his life.

Given the above, I believe the hair claw in the season premiere indicates to us that Carmy is entering season 3 with this familial history playing heavily on his mind. Season 3 also starts on the back of the walk-in fiasco in 2x10 which this reblog thread between myself, @bbythurs and @ambeauty discusses as a representation for Carmy of a broken promise to Sydney and the rest of The Bear crew. In that broken promise, we see an inadvertent repetition by Carmy of the behaviours in his birth family that he hates the most (recall his Al-Anon monologue in 2x03 Sundae where Carmy says his family would fuck up things that gave him amusement and enjoyment, but specifically that they would make promises they weren't able to keep). In this way, season 3 starts with Carmy doing everything he can to undo that broken promise, to undo repeating hurtful familial patterns.

In contrast to the above, Carmy's relationships with Sydney and Richie, while not great at the start of season 3, have not yet reached a boiling point and perhaps are not as front of mind for Carmy. By the time we see the scrunchie and the prayer card at the end of 3x09 however, Syd and Richie's relationships with Carmy have massively deteriorated and are hanging on by a thread. They are definitely occupying his mind by then, explaining why the mementos associated with these two characters are revealed to us at that point in the show.

As always, these are my thoughts and an attempt to apply some logic to a season that, due to its lack of actual dialogue, relies on so much interpretation to muddle our way through. I'm not saying this as a total criticism, because my neurodivergent self loves analysing things like this, but I can see why this season put so many off lol. Its been 1.5 months since I did my first run through of this season and I'm still finding new things I missed during my first watch.

Tagging folks below who might be interested but as always, keen to hear from anyone that wants to chat about this stuff:

@currymanganese @vacationship @moodyeucalyptus @thoughtfulchaos773 @brokenwinebox @espumado @tvfantic87 @ambeauty @bbythurs @mitocamdria @turbulenthandholding @anxietycroissant @angelica4equity @devisrina @kdbleu

My next meta will get into just how The Berzatto family is haunting Carmy in season 3...when I finally get around to finishing it. I'm saying it out loud here to force myself to get it done lol. Stay tuned!

[jaidens]

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

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

pairing [s] : darry curtis x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

[papil0nglegs]

Bsf: Y/n, I need to confess something..

Curtis sis!Reader: Yeah what’s up?

Bsf: I have a crush on your brother pony..

Curtis sis!Reader: 😟

Bsf: ..any thoughts??

Curtis sis!Reader: And prayers, you’re going to need them

[ponstermenis-writing]

✩ (There’s No Place Like) Home For The Holidays ✩

Darrel Curtis & Everyone Johnnyboy, Stevepop, Darbit

̣̥☆·͙̥‧‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙冬˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆̣̥

Ever since their folks died, Darry’s been handling the holidays.

The first year they didn’t do anything—they died relatively close to thanksgiving, so it felt wrong to celebrate. But ever since then he goes overboard .

None of them are complaining, a lot of greasers don’t celebrate at all—Johnny and Steve both didn’t even know what Christmas was before the Curtis folks introduced it to them. The only reason Dallas knew was because, well, New York is kind of the place for Christmas.

Their mother loved the holidays. She and Dad would take off work and spend the day with them—it was a lot like those hallmark movies she forced them to watch. Darry didn’t dare let those memories die—he’d put up all the decorations on the first weekend of December, The Beach Boys and Brenda Lee would be on the record player until January.

It was currently December 23rd. Darry didn’t plan on waiting this long to put up decor. But he’d been swamped with work and he knew Pony and Soda would half-ass it. He enlisted Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit to help.

“Do people even use Nutcrackers?” Two-Bit asked, opening and closing the mouth. “It’s more of a looks thing, Two.” Soda laughs, trying desperately to hang up lights over the fireplace. “Yeah, lord knows Darry doesn’t have enough decorations already.” Two-Bit teases, laughing nervously when Darry glares at him.

“When you finally get your own place, you’re gonna wish I was still around.” Darry gripes, untangling lights for the roofline. “Aw, you wouldn’t come with me?” Two-Bit says, putting his hands in a prayer motion with an obnoxious pout in his face. “I couldn’t deal with the mess you bring.” Darry can’t help but laugh at his own comment—Two-Bit is less amused, an offended sound coming out of his mouth.

“Do you boys want to help me put these up?” Darry asks before Two-Bit can say anything in return. Johnny and Ponyboy share a look—they always managed to communicate without ever actually saying anything. “Sure.” Ponyboy says, standing. “Beats translating Feliz Navidad for Soda again.” Johnny adds.

Soda whips around to frown at him, looking utterly heartbroken. “The lyrics never change, man.” Johnny laughs, bumping into him as they pass by.

Getting onto the roof was always a struggle. Ponyboy’s terrified of heights—but putting up the lights out there makes him feel grown. Darry lifts them up one by one, letting both boys stand on his shoulders and hoist themselves up. Darry can reach The roofline by using a small stepladder from work, so he’s never really had to climb up there.

Putting the outdoor lights up used to be Darry and Mr.Curtis’s job—it’s probably why he’s so insistent that one of the boys do it with him—like it’s a right of passage, or something.

He tosses the lights and the little plastic clips up to the boys and tells them where to put ‘em—he usually fixes the lights after they’re done anyway, but he knows the boys both like helping out.

They’re about halfway done when Johnny pauses, glancing down at the ground just past Darry.

“Jesus.” Dallas groans. “Going all out again this year, huh Darry?” He teases, standing beside him with his arms crossed. Dallas is what the gang lovingly called, a grouch. He doesn’t like the holidays, even when he was little he’d roll his eyes at the mention.

“Hey Dally!” Johnny calls down to him, leaning over the roofline to smile at him. Darry doesn’t miss how Dallas falters—like Johnny’s gonna fall and he’ll have to catch him. “Be careful! Jesus.” Dallas grunts, The other three laughing at him—Dallas was easily the least cautious of them all. But he’d wrap Johnny up in bubble wrap if he could.

“I thought you were going to New York for Christmas?” Johnny asks, ignoring his comment and still very much leaning over the roof.

“I couldn’t leave you guys all alone.” Dallas shrugs. Darry knows deep down that he loves the holidays with them—but he’s smart enough not to comment too obviously. “Besides, nothing up there I haven’t seen before.”

Darry can’t help but smile, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Dallas isn’t much younger than he is—but just like the rest of the gang, he’ll always be Darry’s little brother. “You wouldn’t mind helping us out, would you Dal?” He asks, glancing up at the roof.

Dallas scoffs. “No, Than—“ he pauses, seeing Johnny stare down at him hopefully. “Fine.” He groans, squeezing onto the stepladder beside him and hoisting himself up. He makes a point to drag Johnny and Pony both back a bit so they won’t fall.

Even if they did, they’d crash into snow-covered bushes just a few feet under them. If it were any higher, Darry’d be worried too—but Two-Bit skydived from the height when he was really drunk last summer, so he knew it was fine.

Dallas was actually pretty damn good at putting the lights up where they belong. “For someone who hates it, you sure do have an eye for Christmas decor.” Ponyboy jokes, narrowly dodging the smack Dallas aimed at the back of his head.

Just as their hands were beginning to freeze off, they were finished. Darry helped them all back down—Much to Dally’s chagrin, he did not like help in any sense of the word. They all stood back to take in the house.

“Looks shit.” Dallas says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’ll look better at night.” Pony retorts matter-of-factly. “Speaking of,” Darry says, heading inside while the others trail after him. “You both are staying over tonight, right?”

“I don’t see why not.” Dallas shrugs, slinging his arm around Johnny's shoulder. They all look at the boy expectantly. “I think my Ma wants me home.” He mutters, not looking at them. Dallas scoffs, Ponyboy frowns—but Darry has learned how to get him to stay.

“Aw… I already started making some Mac & Cheese for you.” Darry sighs—he hates guilting Johnny—really, he does. But hey, it works. “Yeah! I thought you were gonna walk with me tonight, too!” Ponyboy adds, looking at the boy expectantly.

“I-I’m sure they won’t miss me too much.” Johnny says finally, giving them an awkward smile. Darry and Pony share a secret high-five—they officially had the whole gang together for Christmas. Two-Bit and Steve often go off with their families for the actual night of Christmas Eve, but the night before works just as well.

“Geez, if I hear one more Christmas song, I’m gonna riot.” Dallas says as they walk inside—hearing Perry Como croon on about being home for the holidays. “My house, my rules.” Darry says, shucking off his jacket. “Which means the Christmas music stays on .” Dallas groans loud enough to alert everyone else of his presence.

“Well, if it isn’t New York’s sweetheart!” Two-Bit calls from the living room. “Glad to know you stayed home, Dal.” He teases, nudging him lightly as he walks back. Two-Bit was the first person of the gang Dallas became pals with—Two was one of the few people who could poke fun at him without getting clocked.

“Yeah, Knew you fella’s would be lonely without me.” Dallas says—Darry doesn’t miss the glance back at Johnny, Dally’s un-official-but-also-un-questionable little brother. Two-Bit just smiles, handing him a balled up chunk of tinsel. “We sure missed the extra pair of hands!”

Dallas groans but does as he’s asked. Johnny goes back to putting up the candles, Pony tries his best to hang ornaments on the tree.

The candles actually weren’t something the Curtis folks ever did—in fear of burning the house down. But ever since Johnny told them that he was Jewish and the closest he’d ever gotten to a holiday with his folks was Hanukkah when he was really little, how could Darry say no?

Annually, at least two ornaments are smashed and one string of lights stops working. Two-Bit found this year's string, holding it up triumphantly. “Lookie here!” He calls, showing it to Darry before he trashes it. Darrel can’t help but chuckle. “It’s not a competition, you know.” He says, letting Two-Bit throw an arm around his shoulder—he’s a little shorter, so his arm has to reach awkwardly around his neck.

“Yeah, well. I still won.” He says, leaning in to smirk in Darry’s face. He’s shoved away a moment later when Ponyboy shuffles into the kitchen. They aren’t very… open about their relationship yet. Johnny and Soda both found out the hard way—but everyone else had no clue. It wasn’t homophobia they were worried about—it was the teasing.

“Can you make us some hot chocolate?” Ponyboy begs—he’s obviously talking about him and Johnny, but the poor boy can’t ask for anything even after all these years. Even when he was stuck in that wheelchair—he was insistent that nobody else move him around or help him carry things. He could walk on his own now, but his back still hurt when he’d stand for too long.

“Sure,” Darry says, smiling evilly. “If you can name all the reindeer I will.”

Ponyboy just groans, walking off. Two-Bit chuckles, grabbing two hot chocolate packets anyway. “I don’t get why he doesn’t make it himself.” He says, heating up some milk in the microwave—after many failed attempts at dinner, Two-Bit Matthews is not allowed to touch the stovetop. Ever.

“He claims that I make it best.” Darry shrugs. “He’s just too lazy to mix it all the way—there’s nothing I do different.”

“Really? Are you sure there isn’t a secret ingredient?” Two-Bit askes, making a kissy-face as he dumps far too many marshmallows into both cups. Darry just rolls his eyes.

Two-Bit walks the cups to the boys and Darry follows—partially to know he doesn’t spill it, partially because he feels lonely in the kitchen by himself. Ponyboy takes both of them gratefully, handing Johnny his cup.

Darry can’t help but feel love surge in his chest—he stands in the doorway that leads to the kitchen, watching over his boys. Johnny picks the marshmallows off and hands them to Dallas, leaning his head on his shoulder while he unravels tinsel. Ponyboy leans against Johnny's legs—he’s on the floor while Dallas and Johnny are on the couch—and sips idly at his own cup, humming along to the music. Soda and Steve keep trying to shove each other under the mistletoe, Two-Bit cheering them on.

“You look happy.” A voice says from behind him. Darry jumps halfway out of his skin, turning around so quickly that he almost smacks his head against the wooden door frame.

Tim Shepard gives him an amused look. Even he looks rather Christmas-y—he’s all bundled up with a hat and gloves that he definitely got from Mr.Curtis a few years back. He’s got a few presents in his hand and a slight smile on his face.

“You scared me.” Darry mutters, breathing out a sigh. “But yeah, I guess I am.” He spares a glance back—Dallas, Johnny, and Ponyboy are all staring at him. “Whatchu’ got there?” Darry asks Tim, trying to ignore the eyes on them.

Tim groans, handing him the boxes. “The bottom two are from Curly—to Johnny and Pony, I guess. But apparently they can’t know it’s from him.” He says, chuckling. “Top three are from me.” He says, not looking at him.

“Well, thank you.” He says, glancing down. “Can I ask who they’re for?”

Tim crosses his arms. “You, Dallas, and Johnny.” He shrugs—Darrel can tell he’s embarrassed. Tim might be one of the most hardcore guys currently in the house, but even he has his own nervous ticks. “I thought I owed you something—y’know, for all those times you gave us dinner and shit. Thanks, by the way—I don’t think I ever said that.” He rambles, still not daring to meet his eyes.

Darry can’t help but smile. “It was no problem.” He says simply, tucking the gifts under his arm. “I assume you have a reason to give something to Johnny and Dallas as well?” He says—he can’t help his teasing tone.

Tim glares at him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “They’re good kids.” He says simply, leaning back on the banister by the front door. “Someone’s gotta hang out with Curly, Y’know? Better Cade than anyone else.” Tim shrugs. “Dal has dragged both of ‘em home more times than I can count.”

Darry nods, setting the gifts down. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” He says, dragging a plate from the cabinets. “I assume they shouldn’t know these are from you either?” He can’t help but smile—he dumps the rest of their leftover cookies on the plate and wraps it with saran wrap. Tim pretends not to notice. “Looks like they already do.” He chuckles, glancing back into the living room.

Tim takes the plate gratefully, tucking it under his jacket before saying goodbye with his head ducked down. He’s gone a second later—cat-like agility letting him out of the house before Darrel can even answer him.

“Aw, you gave him the rest?” Ponyboy pouts, walking into the kitchen once Tim is gone—Johnny shuffling in behind him. “I’ll make more.” Darry chuckles. He finds the gift with his name on it and removes it from the pile, handing the rest to the two boys. “These are for you.”

“Really?” Johnny can’t help but say hopefully, glancing back at the door. Darry knows deep down that he looks up to Tim about as much as he does Dallas—he was a Shepard before he was ever a Curtis. And Tim is arguably cooler than Dal. “Uh huh,” Darry smiles, hiding his own behind his back. “One of thems for Dally, okay?”

Johnny and Ponyboy nod and walk off into the living room. Darry can hear Dallas laugh when he’s handed the gift.

He waits till they can’t see him to open his own. It’s simple—just a packet of new socks. But he knows it’s a lot from the Shephards. It means Tim was listening too—sometimes he’ll help Darrel out at work for extra cash—he remembers complaining about the holes in his socks that he couldn’t replace. Darry smiles to himself, tucking the pack back into the wrapping paper—it had been so horribly done, but it was clear Tim tried—and putting it aside.

He’s halfway through getting out the things for a new batch of cookies when Dallas and Johnny enter the kitchen.

“Me and Johnnycakes are gonna go say thank you.” Dallas says, ruffling Johnny’s hair. “No you aren’t.” Ponyboy calls from the living room. “You’re gonna make fun of ‘em!”

Darry crosses his arms, raising a brow at the two. “Are you?” He asks, glaring only at Dallas. “I got something I gotta give to Curly.” Johnny mutters—poor boy thinks he’s angry at him too. Darry just places a kiss on his hairline and sends him off, reminding him to stay warm even for the short walk.

“C’mon Dar, he knew this was gonna happen.” Dallas says, smirking. “Don’t be rude, Dallas. You should be happy he thought of you at all.” Most of the time—Dallas and Tim aren’t on the greatest terms. Darrry knows that better than anyone, having to patch them both up after a nasty fight or two.

“Ya hear that, Dal?” Two-Bit says, sticking his head in the room. He holds a hand up to his ear and pretends to listen. “That’s Santa Claus calling you an asshole.” He teases. Dallas smacks him on the back of the head—just hard enough to sting. “I’ll take the naughty list and shove it right up your ass.” He bites, still glaring at the redhead.

Darry rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna go over there and say thank you.” He commands. Dallas isn’t scared of him by any means—but everyone knows it’s not the best idea to anger someone twice your size. “I’m sure Johnny won’t let you be rude, anyway.” Two-Bit laughs as Dallas saunters off.

“What’d Tim give yuh’?” He asks once Dallas is gone, eyeing the rewrapped gift. “Socks.” Darry says simply, grabbing the ingredients for the cookies. “How sentimental.” Two-Bit chuckles, hoisting himself up to sit on the countertop right where he’s trying to work. “I bet my gift is better.”

“I hope it isn’t similar to what you tried last year.” Darry groaned, shoving him lightly to get him off the parchment paper. “You loved my gift last year!” Two-Bit says defensively. “Besides, it turned out to be, like… the best coming out ever.”

“I’m sure Johnny and Soda would disagree with you.”

“They’ve got their own things going on.” Twobit shrugs, leaning back on the kitchen wall. Darry pauses, raising a brow.

“Come on… don’t say you haven’t noticed.”

“Notice what?”

“You know what!”

“No—No I…I really don't.”

Two-bit groans. “I mean, don’t stay Steve and Soda aren’t a little… suspicious.”

“You act like they’re committing a crime.” Darry can’t help but laugh. “I think it is, in some states.” Two-Bit shrugs. Darry just rolls his eyes. “What about Johnny, though? What’s going on with him?”

“Darry…” Two-Bit sighs, looking at him like he’s about to destroy his innocence. “Two teenage boys don’t lock the door when they’re alone for no reason.”

He has to pause and think for a second. He immediately slaps the man upside the head, causing him to topple forward and almost hit the floor. “I don’t want to hear that!” Darry whisper-yells, acutely aware of the gang still in the living room.

I mean… he assumed something was going on. But he really doesn’t want to know what his sixteen year old brother—who in his eyes, is still a baby—gets up to with his seventeen-almost-eighteen year old friend when they’re alone—he doesn’t want to hear about what Sodapop is up to either!

“Communication is key in every relationship—“ Two-Bit begins as he’s shoved out of the kitchen. “Hey, ow! You’re only upset because it’s true—“ he pauses, glancing up at the doorway.

Ponyboy is standing there with an amused look on his face, glancing at the two. “Was gonna ask where you wanted this.” He says, laughing as he holds up an ornament Sodapop made when he was real young. “I’ll just guess.” He’s gone a second later, letting Two-Bit finally right himself. He puts his hands up in defeat and shuffles out as well.

Darry is halfway through making the cookie dough when Dallas and Johnny show up again. Dallas now has a reasonably sized bruise on his jaw—he definitely did not listen. Johnnys still laughing when they get inside, pulling off his jacket.

“Looks like you two had fun.” Darry says, raising a brow at Dallas—the blonde just walks off with a groan. “Tim was the only one home.” Johnny says, holding up his little present still. “Bummer.” Darry chuckles, watching Dallas throw himself down on the couch.

Johnny lingers behind a second too long, glancing at the bowl in his hand. “Wanna help?” Darry asks, knowing Johnny won’t say anything on his own. “Uh—“ He mutters, glancing back into the living room. “I uhm… I promised Pony I’d help him with the ornaments. Sorry Darry.”

“No problem.” Darry says, going back to mixing. “Can you grab Steve and Soda while you’re in the other room?” He asks. Johnny nods quickly and scampers off before anything else can be said.

Steve and Soda are his sous chefs when it comes to dessert. Not because they’re good at it—but instead because they eat the batter or dough, and will not hesitate to complain if they don’t get any.

He hands the spoon to Soda the second he’s there, trusting him with it while he searches the cupboards for vanilla extract. He’s in the middle of his search when he hears giggling from the other room.

Upon further inspection, Johnny and Ponyboy seem to be messing around under the doorway to the hall all of their rooms are in. “Cut it out, Pone!“ Johnny laughs, red-faced and actively trying to shove the boy off. Pony is trying to pull him closer, making kissy faces and missing Johnny’s face entirely. “It’s mistletoe, John! We have to!”

Two-Bit is sitting on the couch next to Dallas—who is really into getting that tinsel untangled, giving Darry a knowing look. The older simply rolls his eyes, heading back in the kitchen. He doesn't remember ever owning or putting up mistletoe, and he’d bet money that he was right about who did.

“Jesus, how much did you two eat?” He gasps, staring at the—now half full—bowl. “I don’t appreciate the fat-shaming, Darrel.” Sodapop says, crossing his arms. Steve wipes some of the dough off of the corner of his mouth, nodding along. “Yeah, We’re growing boys!”

Darry can’t help but laugh, nudging the both of them out of the way. “You both are considered legal adults in the eyes of the law.” He says simply, mixing in the vanilla extract into the bowl before the two finish it off.

He’s able to get it into the oven with only a few instances of him slapping the boy’s hands away with a spoon. The best friends give up once the oven is shut, retreating back into the living room. Darrel sets the timer and heads back into the living room to check on the progress.

It truly does look beautiful—just like their mother had done. Johnny and Pony were still quietly placing ornaments on the tree, Steve and Soda were back to string garlands on the mantle, Dallas had finally got the tinsel unraveled and was trying his best to be careful putting it on the tree—realistically the tinsel should go first, but he's so proud of the boy for trying that he doesn't dare comment. Two-Bit is off to the side fucking with the nutcrackers—because he’s Two-Bit.

Darry watches silently from the doorway. His boys truly are some genuine souls, aren’t they? He used to be so confused when Mrs.Curtis would watch quietly, smiling to herself like she truly had it all. Darry finally understands that feeling—love swelling in his chest, he can’t help but feel his eyes get wet.

Two-Bit had somehow managed to sneak behind him. “Looks like a hallmark movie.” He says, leaning his chin on Darry’s shoulder and watching alongside him. “Yeah—Yeah, it really does.” Darry chuckles, his voice cracking as he's unable to hold back just how happy he is. Two-Bit smiles, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. “You did good.” He whispers. “You raised some pretty hardcore kids. We really are like a big happy family.”

Darry has to take deep breaths to stop himself from sobbing—has he ever been this happy before? Has he ever felt so content?

Two-Bit just chuckles, placing something in his hands before walking off to get back to his work. It's thin and celluloid—upon closer inspection, it's a polaroid. It truly is something that should be something put in a museum.

It's a wide shot of the living room. He’s not sure when it was taken—Clearly it was Two-Bit’s work, but he’d been idly watching them all for half an hour now. In the middle of the picture is the tree. Dallas has his arm around Johnny’s shoulder while he’s pointing at one of the ornaments—it's one Mr.Curtis had gotten for Johnny on his first Christmas with them. You can only see the back of Dallas’s head, but you can just barely see the smile on Johnny’s face. Ponyboy is right beside him smiling just as wide, resting his head on Johnny’s shoulder while he listens in. To their right is the fireplace, setting a yellow-ish glow on the whole room—Steve and Soda are meticulously putting the garland in place and fixing the candles in-between, Soda’s got his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth—something he always did when he was focusing–and Steve is very clearly giving him orders.

To the left, just barely in frame, it's him. He really does look like his father—standing with his arms crossed and leaning against the wooden doorframe, a content smile on his face as he looks out at the whole scene.

Darry rushed off to his room before anyone could see. He sits down on his bed—staring down at the picture as tears fill his eyes. Something about having the memory caught in place forever really got to him. The fact that Two-Bit knew to take a picture, the warm glow the whole room gave, the content look on everyone's faces.

Darry didn’t consider himself an emotional being. That was Soda’s job—he was the dream-crusher who made sure everything went how it needed to. But in moments like these he couldn’t help loving them—he knows one day they’ll all move on and only visit him when they have to. But for now, all his boys are home. They’re home, they’re happy… they’re safe.

A few quiet knocks hit his door and he immediately knows who it is. He wipes away his tears and tucks the photo in his lap. “You can come in, Johnny.” He says, willing his voice not to crack. Johnny peeks his head in a moment later, looking all guilty.

“Are you okay?” He asks, frowning when he sees Darry’s sad look. He doesn’t really know how to explain this feeling to him—Johnny’s never had a family other than them, and everytime he gets comfortable here—his home, blood be damned—he’d always be forced back into the house with the two people who love him the most. “I’m alright baby, just a lot of feelings.” He replies, giving the boy the best smile he can muster.

Johnny gasps, shutting the door behind him. “Are you crying?” He whispers, brows furrowed and eyes wide. “Is this because I broke that ornament? I-I’m real sorry, Darry—It just slipping from my hands, I really didn’t—”

Darry interrupts him with a chuckle, holding his arms out for a hug. Johnny responds immediately, stepping up and letting Darry hug him. “No, it's not that.” Darry says, ruffling his hair. “I don’t care about some silly ornament.”

“Y-You sure…? I think I saw one like it at the corner store—”

“Johnny.” Darry interrupts, he knows the boy’ll talk himself back into that mindset that everything is his fault if he doesn’t. “I promise you, I’m not upset. Just happy tears.” He says, letting Johnny sit down on the bed beside him. He hands Johnny the photo, watching his face closely. “Gee…” Johnny mutters, smiling down at it. “Golly Darry, I think I’m gonna cry too.”

Darrel chuckles, ruffling his hair. “I think the cookies are done, if you want one.” He says, nudging him. “They should still be soft, I know you like them that way.” Johnny jumps to his feet–giddy with excitement. “Thanks Darry!” He says, handing him back the photo and rushing off to the kitchen. He can hear the boy excitedly tell Pony about the finished cookies and them both rushing to grab them.

He manages to fix himself up before he heads back out. “Everything alright?” Dallas askes as he passes, not looking at him. “Of course.” Darry smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing slightly. “Just, happy to have everyone here.” He says, deciding there's no point hiding the wetness of his voice from his earlier sob-fest. Dallas, who was never big on expressing his feelings, rolls his eyes with a half-hearted smile. “Jeez, You’re a big ol’ sap. Y’know that?”

“You’re not any better.” Darrel teases, shoving him lightly before heading back into the kitchen. Johnny and Pony are splitting one of the cookies in half, idly watching the TV from the kitchen counter. “Any good?” Darrel askes, taking one.

“Mph—“ Ponyboy grunts, nodding his head with his mouth full. “Very good.” He adds once he finishes chewing. Darry can’t help but laugh, ruffling his hair. “Make sure not to eat them all.”

“I can’t believe you’d think so low of us.” Ponyboy replies defensively, grabbing another from the tin. “Just don’t want you two having too much sugar,” Darrel chuckles, moving the tin away from both boys. “With the advent calendar and all the candy, more cookies is the last thing you need. You’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t finish the whole calendar on day one.” Ponyboy laughs around a mouthful of cookie, reaching for his cup of water when he chokes. Darry just sighs, taking his own and sauntering back to the living room.

He sits down on the couch beside Two-Bit, breaking the cookie in half and giving one to him. Two-Bit shoves the whole thing in his mouth without blinking, watch the lovey-dovey Christmas movie on the TV.

“Which one is this?”

“Christmas Angel.” Two-Bit mutters—though he pretends to sound uninterested, he refuses to take his eyes off the screen. Darrel raises a brow, watching the screen for a moment before deciding that this is a very horrible movie. “Didn’t know you were into this kind of thing.”

“ ‘M not.” Two-Bit says defensively. “Every channel is playing a somethin’ Christmas, this was just the least-worst one.”

Darrel was sitting there for about half an hour before he realizes that he’s actually watching this piece-of-shit movie. “Darry.” Two-Bit says as the credits roll, glancing over at him. “Hmm?” Darrel hums, still not taking his eyes off the screen.

“You’re my Christmas Angel.” Two-Bit whispers, making a kissy face. Darrel finally looks at him, grimacing. “Wow, that was…” he holds back a gag. “ Horrible . That was really horrible.”

“Just take the compliment.” Two-Bit groans, leaning away from him as if Darrel has betrayed him. Darry just rolls his eyes, a smile playing on his lips—he pulls himself to his feet a moment later, going through the box of Christmas ornaments.

He pulled the delicate star from the very bottom, covered in layers of bubble wrap and packing paper. Ponyboy is standing right behind him when he pulls it out, ready to take it in his hand. “C’mon Johnny!” He calls into the kitchen. “We gotta put the star on the tree!”

Johnny comes out of the kitchen a moment later, Dallas in tow. “Do I need to lift you up or something?” Johnny askes, glancing at the very delicate items in the boy’s hands. “I don’t think you can.” Ponyboy chuckles.

“Hey! I’ve been doing very well since the fire, y’know! Soda’s been taking me to the gym an—“

“That's not what I meant.” Ponyboy interrupts, placing a hand over the boy's mouth—he tears it away when he licks it, wiping it on Darry’s shirt because… well, why wouldn’t he? “You’re like—5’8” man, I’d crush you.”

“And a half!” Johnny adds, crossing his arms. “And I’ll have you know I picked Dally up once.”

“Barely.” Dallas chuckles from behind him. “My back still hurts from when you dropped me.”

“I don’t want to hear anything from anyone else about a hurt back.” Johnny grumbles, glaring at him. Two-Bit throws his head back laughing on the couch, pulling Steve and Soda out of Soda’s room.

Ponyboy just rolls his eyes, scooping Johnny up and helping him onto his shoulder. Johnny fights it at first, cutting it out the second he’s in the air in fear of plummeting to the floor. Johnny grasps onto Ponyboy’s head. “Don’t drop me!”

“I won’t.” Pony laughs, handing the star up to him.

It takes Ponyboy a minute to get to the tree, trying hard not to run into things with Johnny's hands very much over his eyes. It takes the boy a minute to lift his arm up, careful not to lean forward too much. He’s finally able to stick it on there, already begging to be let down.

Darry picks him up by the armpits and plops him on the ground as gracefully as he can. Johnny lets out a sigh of relief, thanking him.

They all stand back to look at the tree, fully lit with glittering tinsel and shiny ornaments. It’s already beginning to get dark outside—though it’s only five. Darry wants to stand and stare at it all night—but he knows these boys need to eat.

“I’ll go start dinner.” He says, wiping his hands on his shirt just to bush them. “You boys are free for the day.”

Ponyboy tugs on his shirt sleeve just before he walks off. “Can we go outside and play in the snow?” He whisper-asks—looking at him pleadingly. Darry—Already knowing this won’t end well, but also knowing how desperately they all wanted to go in the snow…

“Alright.” he sighs. “Just make sure you’re all bundled up, and don’t track snow through the house.” Ponyboy agrees excitedly, already running off.

Sure enough—Dallas, Pony, and Johnny all pass by him a moment later decked out in snow gear. Dallas gives him a thumbs up, as if to say ‘don’t worry, I’ll watch them’.

He’s halfway through mixing up the Mac & Cheese he promised when the three reminding members of that gang saunter into the kitchen. “Can we help?” Soda askes.

Darry smiles, ruffling his hair. “Of course you can.”

It went by a lot quicker with all hands on deck—Darry even managed to catch a photo of them all cooking, and one of the other three in the snow. He kept a close eye on his helpers—Two barely got the ham out in time, Soda put way too much sugar in the cake, Steve spent more time drinking the pasta sauce out of the ladle than he did making the noodles.

But they got it done.

They did it together, too.

“Boys!” Darry calls out, opening the window to stick his head out. Dallas was in the middle of pelting Ponyboy in the face with a snowball—it hit the second Darry finished talking. “Dinners ready.” Darry chuckles.

The three of them come barreling in a second later, smart enough to take off their shoes. Darry takes their jackets, sending them all into a room to change into warm clothes.

He tosses the jackets on the porch, shutting the door extra tight behind him to keep the snow out.

He puts down the—Christmas themed, of course—tablecloth, setting up plates and silverware. He puts the different pans full of food along the counter-top, very impressed with their work.

“Alright guys, one at a time.” He says just as the other three walk out of the rooms—wearing too-big sweaters and sweatpants. They all go one at a time and dump food onto their plate, sitting down at the dining table in their usual spots.

“Jesus, John—“ Dallas chuckles, picking leaves out of his hair. “Your hair is like a breeding ground for all the plants on the ground, man.” He says, ruffling it to see if any more leaves or twigs would fall out. “Never call my hair a ‘breeding ground’ again.” Johnny mutters, annoyed, smacking Dallas’s hand away—a piece of ham hanging from his mouth.

They eat mostly in silence, forks clinking against porcelain as they all dig in. Darry knows he isn’t the best cook on the planet—but watching them all tear it apart like they’re starved definitely makes him feel a bit better about it.

Darry collects all the plates when they’re done, dumping them in the sink—he tells himself he’ll wash them before bed, but he’s almost 100% sure he won’t. “Everyone in the living room,” he says, helping Johnny out of his seat. “I have a present for you all.”

“Is it a puppy?” Ponyboy asks excitedly, rushing to sit down on the couch. “Not necessarily…” Darry smiles—he has to hide his smirk. Realistically he knows they will all hate this gift. But hey, if he had to spend his entire early-adult life raising them, he gets to embarrass them once or twice.

He hands them all a wrapper box with their names on it. “You guys don’t have to look so scared.” He chuckles, watching Soda be the first to slowly peel back the paper.

“You’re joking.” He says, deadpanned. “You did not actually do this.”

“What is it?” Ponyboy asks, leaning over his brothers shoulders. Soda pulls out the contents of the box and holds it up for all of them to see. A chorus of loud groans fill the room, heads falling back against the cushions.

“You got us matching pajamas?” Two-Bit asks, raising a brow. He’s easily the most on board—beside Darry, of course. Mostly because there aren’t many ways to embarrass him past what he’s already done.

“You cannot make me wear this.” Dallas says simply, crossing his arms. For the options he had—Darry could have chosen much more embarrassing ones.

It was a simple white top with their names embroidered on the right of their chest, and a pair of pajama pants to go with. Soda got red plaid, Two-Bit and Darry got green—he made a point to get Dallas and Steve the ones with little reindeers and red bows to really embarrass them—Johnny got gingerbread and snowmen, Pony got little presents and elves.

“Oh, yes you will.” Darry chuckles darkly. “If you’re staying in my house, you’re wearing those.”

“So suddenly we’re not family anymore, huh?” Dallas grunts. “You’re gonna kick me out over pajamas ?”

“Yep.” Darry smirks—realistically, he won’t. But he knows Dallas will do it—he doesn’t care how much the boy complains. Their mother wanted to do this when they were all little—but each and every child shut the idea down and fought tooth and nail to keep her away. Darry very much remembers almost biting his father over them.

Dallas groans loudly, dropping them in the box. “You’re lucky Buck’s is closed for the night.” He says, tucking it under his arm. “How come me and Dallas got the worst ones?“ Steve complains—he doesn’t even seem completely turned off by the idea, but very much so about the fact that he got the girliest ones—the background of the pattern is a barely noticeable pink.

“Because they bring out your eyes.” Two-Bit jokes, narrowly ducking under the box hurled at his head. Darrel just chuckles, standing. “Don’t worry, I have to wear them too.” He says, holding up his own.

“We don’t have to put them on now , do we?” Ponyboy asks, pointedly not looking at his own.

“Depends,” Darry begins, tucking his box under his arm. “Who wants to run an errand with me?”

The room is silent for a long while, all glancing at each other. Johnny sighs and stands. “I’ll go.” He mutters, like he’s taking on for the team. Pony stands right after. “Me too.” He says quickly.

Darry smiles. “Great.” He says, ruffling their hair as they walk past him to the door. “The rest of you better have those on when we get back.” Darry says evilly, walking off and ignoring all the sudden volunteers.

He makes sure Johnny grabs his gift before they go—Darry wraps both boys up in jackets, scarves, and gloves. It’ll on get colder.

He loads the leftovers in the truck, letting Pony and Johnny hold them still in the backseat. “Where we goin’?” Johnny askes, looking up at him confusedly. “We’ve got a few deliveries to make.” Darry says simply, putting the truck in gear and driving off.

First is the Shepards.

He separates a decent amount onto a seperate plates for them, wrapping it up before handing the few plates of food too the two boys. He walks up the rickety porch and rings the bell.

“Whaddaya want.” Curly answers, throwing the door open. His eyes go wide when he sees who it is. “Oh. Shit, my bad.” He says, not looking at him. “No problem, Curly.” Darry smiles, handing him the plate in his hands. “In case y’all are hungry.”

Curly stares down at the plates with wide eyes before finally taking them, setting them on the couch beside him. “Thanks, I guess.” He says, showing his hands in his jean pockets. Ponyboy rolls his eyes, already walking off to the car. Darrel has to grip the back of his jacket to keep him from running off.

“Tell Tim I said thank you.” Darry says, not seeing the older boy anywhere.

“Yeah man, no problem.” Curly nods.

“Me too.” Johnny mutters, peeking his head out from behind the older Curtis. “To you too. Thanks for the gift, it was very nice.” He says in a teasing tone, a devilish smile on his face. Curly’s whole face goes bright red—so red, in fact, that they can see it even in the fleeting lamp light.

“How did you—“ he begins, cutting himself off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Johnny just laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Guess you don’t want this, then.” He says, waving his own gift in the boy's face. Curly snatches it from his hand, looking down to see his name sharpied on the wrapping paper. “You got me something? You really are a wimp.” Curly sneers, tucking it behind his back anyway—like Johnny would steal it back from him.

Johnny just rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. Merry Christmas.” He says, following Pony and Darry to the truck. Curly doesn’t reply, watching them from the doorway. He only leaves once they’ve pulled away, heading back inside. They can hear him call to Angela from outside.

They head to Buck Merrill’s next. Darry really does hate going to that bar—especially with Johnny and Pony in tow—but he knows Buck is a good guy. He gave Dallas a place to live for most of his teenage years—and often would help Johnny out after a beating if the gang wasn’t around.

Buck and Darry also have an agreement—made after the fire, of course—that if Johnny, Pony, or Soda ever come knocking at his door… Darry will be

called immediately .

He knows Buck isn’t having a party tonight. He usually keeps it closed around family holidays—he claims it’s because of the lack of business, but Darry knows deep down he doesn’t like seeing people ignore their families to come drink at his bar.

He gathers the rest of the food and helps Johnny and Pony carry it up to the door. He knocks loud enough to be heard from anywhere in the house. He can hear Buck’s rushed footsteps, the door being thrown open a moment later.

“What—“ he begins angrily, pausing when he recognizes them. “Oh. Shit, what’s happening now?” He asks, his shoulders dropping. He spares a quizzical glance at Johnny—as if to ask ‘did you kill someone? again?’.

“Nothing to be worried about.” Darry smiles, holding a plate out to him. “There was a lot left over from dinner—I had a feeling you weren’t cooking anything.”

Buck inspects the plate, giving him an odd look. “Uh huh. No other reason?”

“Just wanted to be nice,” Darry begins, giving him a warm smile. “You’re not all alone in there are you?”

“Nawh—My brother’s home.” Buck shrugs. He has a younger brother—only a few years younger than him, Darry’s age. Most of the time he’s out of state—Dallas is the only one who’s ever met him in person, Johnny and Two-Bit have been in the bar while he was… but that’s just about it. “Sure he won’t mind some grub.”

“Good. Merry Christmas, Merril.”

Buck makes an odd face—like how dare Darry say that to him, before groaning. “Give me a second, wait here.” He grumbles, heading back into the bar and shutting the door behind him. By the time he’s back, Johnny and Pony have retreated back to the truck for warmth.

Buck comes back out with a pretty expensive looking bottle of Heineken, handing it off before the two younger boys see. “Nobody here’s gonna be able to afford it anyway.” He says simply, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you. I’m sure the guys will finish this by the end of the night.”

“I’m counting on it.” Buck chuckles. “Oh, and tell Dallas that he left his lighter here. Some broads found it on the floor.” He says, taking it out of his pocket and handing it to him. Darry promises he will and says his goodbyes, Buck just grunts in agreement and shuts the door.

“Darry.” Ponyboy comments when he starts up the truck again. “Are we going to have to put those pajamas on when we get home?“

Darry chuckles. “Of course. It would be unfair if you didn’t.” He says, already picturing the scene of all his boys dolled up like a mall-ad family. “I don’t even mind anymore, at least it’ll be warm.” Johnny mutters, wrapping his arms around himself and wincing just enough to be heard.

The doctor had warned them about this time of year for his scars. Apparently, extreme cold can trigger some kind of nerve pain—it also causes the skin to dry up and crack. Luckily it’s not as bad as it was two years ago, but it will no-doubt hurt for at least a few more years. Not to mention that Johnny already got cold easy before the fire—now it’s bad enough to classify him as hypothermic.

“There should be a few extra blankets in the living room if you need them.” Darry comments idly, trying to focus on the icy road. “Not like Dallas will let you be cold for long anyway.”

Johnny and Ponyboy both giggling in the backseat. As years go on Dallas seems to get less and less scary—the fire turned him so soft that he was almost a different person. It took months for him to stop using kid-gloves around Johnny and Pony.

“We’re home.” Darry says, turning the key and cutting off the car. Both boys run inside immediately, teeth chattering loud enough to sound like tap shoes.

Darry comes inside to already see Dallas worrying over Johnny. “Christ Darry, did you even turn the heat on?” He asks grumpily, checking Johnny's arms to make sure the skin wasn’t cracked bad enough to bleed. Of course it wasn’t, but this was the only thing Dally would ever double check.

“I’m alright Dal.” Johnny says in place of Darry’s retort. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”

Darry suddenly remembers the pajamas. Glancing around the room, all of the boys had listened to him. Even Steve and Dallas—Soda was still keeled over laughing.

Johnny and Ponyboy emerge a few moments later dressed as well—Ponyboy’s got his arms crossed and he is very clearly not happy with this outcome.

“You guys are making my Christmas this year, I swear.” Darry smiles—he’d pinch their cheeks if they’d let him. Eh, he’ll probably do it anyway. Darry gets changed quickly—he’s sure that if he waits any longer they won’t let him get photo evidence.

He runs out with his camera in tow, the boys ass grown when they see it. “We didn’t agree to this!” Steve frowns, watching him set it up on the mantle. “I know, I specifically didn’t tell you so you couldn’t say no.” Darry shrugs, fixing the angle one or twice.

He turns the countdown on and quickly gets behind the group. “Smile!” He says, knowing they won’t. The camera flashes and he’s so excited that he’s already rushing back to it.

To their credit, everyone but Steve, Dallas, and Pony are smiling— Soda’s is more of a smolder, because even in family photos he has to be the best looking. “Look at us! Not a single one of us had our eyes closed!” Two-But chuckles, joining the group around Darry to look at it.

They truly were an adorable family. Darry was already planning on printing this photo and the one Two-Bit had taken a hundred times and placing it on every fridge, work locker, and wallet he could find. “If that ever gets to the public, I’m taking care of all witnesses.” Dallas grumbles. “I’ll be your alibi.” Steve adds, unable to look at it any longer.

“Everybody quit your whining! It's a nice photo!” Darry says defensively, setting the camera aside before anyone could try and delete it. “Yeah, Just pretend its not you in the picture. Thats what I’m gonna do.”

“How's that gonna work?” Steve raises a brow annoyedly—unable to hide his genuine annoyance with the boy for a full holiday. “I could have another brother somewhere—I could be a twin.”

“I’d feel bad for that kid.” Steve chuckles, ignoring the empty box that Ponyboy chucks—and misses—at his head.

“Boys, stop fighting or Santa will give you coal for Christmas.” Two-Bit says teasingly, wagging his finger at them. Steve and Pony both groan.

“I don’t get what's wrong with getting coal for Christmas—I can’t even count how many times I was building a fire and prayed for that stuff.” Johnny mutters, shrugging. He glances up to see the whole gang staring at him with very heartbroken looks on their faces. “Dude, That's like… the saddest thing that's ever come out of your mouth.” Soda says—he almost looks like he's gonna cry–dramatically wrapping his arms around him and sighing.

“No—It's not the time to be sad!” Two-Bit exclaims, crossing his arms with a proud look on his face. “Besides, I am very sure I saw Darrel walk in with some booze in hand. Am I right?” He turns to Darrel. He can’t help but roll his eyes. “Yes, Keith. There is a bottle in the kitchen.”

Everyone but Johnny and Pony rush off to go find it. Darrel can hear the cork pop out from the living room—he's sure this won’t end well. “It’s about time you two get to bed anyway.” Darry sighs, looking at the two younger boys.

“What?” Ponyboy frowns. “I’m almost a grown man and you’re giving me a bedtime?!” He asks, exasperated. “Sixteen is almost grown for you?” Darry retorts, unimpressed, raising a brow. Ponyboy opens his mouth and shuts its again, looking at Johnny for support. “I dunno’ what you’re looking at me for.” Johnny laughs. “When I was sixteen I was actively freeloading off of you guys.”

“You only stopped being sixteen like seven months ago.” Ponyboy mutters, rolling his eyes. “And you weren’t ‘freeloading’ you were recovering from third degree burns.”

“Tomato tah-mah-toe.” Johnny shrugs, already making his way towards Pony’s room. “Now come on, If we don’t go to bed now Santa might not come.” He adds teasingly. “Whose side are you on?” Ponyboy mutters with a betrayed look on his face—he eventually does begin to follow him to his room, trying to hide his own yawn.

“We can get you a cup of warm milk if you want.” Dallas calls from the kitchen, drinking right out of the bottle.

“Oh, Fuck off Dallas!” Ponyboy yells back, turning to glare at him.

“Watch your mouth Pony.” Darry scolds immediately—profanity has never been a big issue for him, but ever since he took over he’d been unable to stop. “You aren’t quite old enough to get away with that.”

“Yeah Yeah.” Pony groans, sticking his head out of his room. “Goodnight friends and family…Steve too, I guess.” He says, shutting the door before Steve can defend himself. Darrel can hear the man yell something in response, muffled by the noise of the rest of the gang laughing.

By the time Darrel makes it into the kitchen, the bottle is already half-way gone. “Jesus, You guys have had enough.” Darry says, aiming to take the bottle and fumbling when Two-Bit snatches it away. “You haven’t had enough if you’re noticing!” He chuckles loudly. “Come on, join us.” He says, waving the bottle around like it's a prize.

Darry rolls his eyes, making another attempt to take it and only getting embarrassed again when he misses.

“Come on big guy, take a sip.” He says again like he's trying to entice him. “You know you want to.” The three others quietly cheer him on, pumping their fists up and down along with their chants. Darry’s never been peer pressured successfully—it works even less when he’s around a group that he mostly thinks of as his younger brothers. But either way he finds himself snatching the bottle and guzzling a decent amount.

It's almost midnight when they decide they’ve had enough. Steve and Soda are the first to go—they both head into Soda’s bedroom, saying their goodnights and such. Dallas goes not long after, aiming to crash on the couch. Darry gives him a goodnight hug and forehead kiss as he goes—to which he gets shoved off by a red-faced blonde.

Two-Bit and Darry retreat to his room only ten minutes later. Darry tells him to get comfortable—he doesn’t know if its because he’s feeling extra loving or because he’s a little tipsy, but he decides he can’t go to bed without giving Johnny and Pony a proper good night.

He’s able to get the bedroom door open without either of them stirring. Despite their earlier protest–Both Johnny and Pony are passed out under the covers. Johnny’s got his head on Pony’s chest and it's a miracle he's not suffocating with the cover’s mostly over his face—upon further inspection the two are completely cuddled up together and snoring just loud enough to hear.

Darry stalks to Ponyboy’s side of the bed and leans down— placing a soft kiss right on his hairline. “Goodnight Pone.” He whispers, though he’s a hundred percent sure the boy won’t hear him.

Sure enough, right as he’s leaning over to do the same to Johnny—Ponyboy stirs. “You smell like booze.” Ponyboy whispers, eyes barely able to stay open for more than a second. “Two spilled some on me.” Darry whispers back—quickly giving Johnny his goodnight and standing straight again.

Ponyboy laughs—his voice is slurred from his own tired state, Darry can’t help but think how adorable it is. “Make sure you gimme a copy of that photo.” Ponyboy whispers, wrapping his arms around his friend and snuggling closer, eyes already shut again. “Will do, Goodnight baby.” Darry whispers with a chuckle—he's able to make it to the door without either of the boy’s re-awakening.

“Did you have fun today?” Two-Bit asks as he climbs into bed a moment later. “Very much so.” Darry smiles, placing a kiss on his cheek and getting comfortable under the covers. “Good,” Two whispers, wrapping his arms around the older. “You deserve a good day every once in a while.”

[jamneuromain]

Highway to Hell - Shared

Series Masterlist

Series summary: A failed mission brought you once again back on earth, a punishment that’s more pleasurable than you'd normally expect punishments to be. Your punishment? Corrupting people’s thoughts. It’s easy, in a very simple way: sexual pleasure. Turns out no man can resist such a beauty like you.

And who were you? Oh, just the devil's child.

A/N: This is a drabble of what would the four men do when they find out you have been dancing among them. Spoiler alert: they decide to share. Applause to the amazing @rogerswifesblog / @rogerswifesblog-updates who help me write this series and provide many excellent ideas to put in the fic <333

Pairings: Cop Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Priest Steve Rogers x Reader, Bartender Ari Levinson x Reader, Uncle Curtis Everett x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Gangbang, Dub con, Double Penetration, P in V, Anal, Oral (Male Receiving), Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (implied), Power Imbalance, Spanking, Threesome (implied), Overstimulation, Creampie (implied), Cum Play, Dummification (just a little), slightly dark(?

On second thought, you shouldn’t have trusted Steve, who told you he needed to speak to you in somewhere private.

And you trusted him. Following him to where he said it would be “peace and quiet”.

Or else, you wouldn’t be cornered by four fuming men in a hotel room, all knowing that you have slept with them separately, while thinking they must have been your only one.

Who would doubt an innocent girl that did nothing than to accept their “generous” offer?

Lloyd, obviously.

“Smart move, sunshine.” The man with a moustache twitches his lips, far from amused, “Telling us that you are shy and rather we won’t tell anybody? Intimate moves forbidden in public? Too bad your little plan didn’t work out.”

“I didn’t plan anything.” You lie to their faces. While in fact you did, carefully choosing your “target”. Lloyd was the unexpected one of them though, since he asked you to pull over as you should have gotten a speed ticket.

“Public?” Steve grinds his teeth before growling, his temper on the thin line of exploding, “I fucked her right in the church. There were only two of us. But still…” Drawing a cross in front of his chest, Steve murmurs a few prayers silently, regardless of the other three men watching him in curiosity.

Lloyd snaps his head back to you, flashing a wolfish glint in his eyes, “The point is, you made us feel very bad about ourselves, sunshine.”

“Yeah, well, you should be proud of yourselves. I wasn’t planning on expanding the list of the men I’ve slept with.” You snap back.

“And we’re supposed to … what? Gloat?” Curtis casually says, taking off his coat, blocking the window, and probably your only hope of escaping, as Lloyd leans on the door.

“If you don’t like it. Feel free to cancel my monthly subscription.” You retort his sarcasm, crossing your arm in front of your chest.

“Gentlemen,” Ari hums in a low voice so that everyone could pay him some attention. He’s been silent ever since Steve led you into this room, “obviously we need more than a ‘monthly’ drop-by.”

The men nod in unison.

“Although we haven’t clarified the specific terms, I believe we should use her whenever we please. And, of course, as we all agree to, share.” Ari smiles at you, but says the darkest thing you could ever imagine.

This was definitely not part of your plan.

“I’ll ask Jake whether he wants to be part of this.” Curtis throws an icy glare at you, “I doubt he would be a problem though. He has shared with me before.”

Lloyd mutters a “fuck”. While Steve is still mulling over his sin-clarification.

“Shall we start?” Ari is shrugging off his leather jacket as he speaks, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt.

“You can’t-” You cry in panic as the four men close in, surrounding you in the middle, “this is against the law … or something at least.”

“Oh sunshine, I am the law in this town.” Lloyd grabs your chin, his psychopathic grin gives you shivers down to your spine, “and you should be glad we decide to forgive you and share you. Or I could tie you up in my basement and invite my new friends over, occasionally.”

You draw a deep breath.

Tears burning. Your jaw hurting. Your dripping holes spreading wide open for two cocks.

“You like that, don’t you?” Lloyd groans as he squeezes your hand tighter, guiding you to stroke his hard cock.

“Yeah she does.” Steve agrees quietly before you could answer. He knees on the couch to push his cock further in your swollen pussy, “Christ. She’s so tight.”

“Wait till you’ve tried her ass, Priest.” Ari brings his hand firmly down your ass cheek, painting it red – as if it weren’t pink and hand-printed already, “that ass is fucking heaven.” He chuckles darkly, kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear, gripping your waist, making sure you are fully seated on his thick member, “or should I say hell?”

Stuffed to the fullest with two cocks in both of your holes, you couldn’t do more than let out a mere whimper.

“Can’t believe I’ve bought her stupid acts.” Curtis spits out through gritted teeth as he feels your throat takes his cock again as far as it could, your whimper vibrates his cock. In return, he tugs your hair without mercy, “all those innocent girly acts. Fuck.”

“We all bought it.” Lloyd eyes Curtis, raising his eyebrows, mocking Curtis, “and speaking from a man that has shared her with his son before, seriously? Innocent?”

Curtis huffs but does not bother to answer.

“My turn.” As Lloyd pulls your hair, and choke you on his cock, leaving Curtis slightly irritated.

You were used by these four men for hours. Each has painted your body, both inside and outside in milky-white substance, bringing you orgasms after orgasms. Your holes red, leaking, and abused.

“No more.” You grip Lloyd’s thigh to keep balance, sniffling when he lets your head go and breathe, battling your eyelashes, but they are heavy with tears that you can’t see his expression, “hurt too much.”

“Heard that?” Lloyd barks out laughter, wiping his cock on your face, leaving traces of your saliva and cum on your rosy cheek, “she said she can’t take it, boys.”

Ari grunts out of disagreement, his fingers dancing around your rim, attempting to squeeze one in alongside his cock, “she was screaming and moaning just fine for hours. Lies.”

“Ari, please,” The helplessness inside you bubbles and fuels to your tears, “I just can’t.”

Steve peppers a trail of kisses down your throat, nibbing your shoulder, while toying with your sensitive clit, “I guess you have to be a strong girl for us then. Don’t you want to be good for all of us, hmm? We’re prepping you. More might join, you know.” He speaks softly, comforting you as always. The panting on the joint between your neck and shoulder increases when your pussy grips him. Still, he mouths your breasts, sucking little red marks on them.

“Steve-” You feel torn apart. The four men bringing you pleasure, but in their own way. As if your body belongs to them separately. And the coil in your stomach threatens to snap with greater pain and pleasure than you could withstand.

A rough hand grips your chin, forcing you to turn the other way.

The hand that has hold you for countless times, on your back with a friendly pat.

Curtis.

“She’s not dumb yet. She can still talk.” Curtis talks about you as if you are an object in front of him, having you clench down your thigh involuntarily. It’s degrading, but it arouses you so much than you should admit. “I’d say she could take more.” The dark brooding man inspects your teary eyes and your cum-stained face, “yeah she’s alright.”

“Heard that, sunshine?” Lloyd taps your forehead with his knuckles, “not brain-dead yet.” He grins, “but it does sound empty, folks.”

Steve wipes the cum from your pussy lips, a mixture of the previous men who has thoroughly used it before he did, onto your soft stomach, which compliments your pretty skin and your cute bellybutton. He smiles warmly, though you are not even certain at this point, “she’s always the smartest. I’d say we work harder to satisfy this little devil, hmm?”

With the element of surprise, Ari starts bouncing you on his dick, shamelessly putting his flexing biceps to use, which earns him a few strangled sounds between cries and moans from you.

He simply shrugs, on receiving three other men’s looks, “I am working.”

And you gulp in fright. When Lloyd, with his sadist grin, taps your lips to open for his heavy cock as you still struggle for air.

This would be the start of some many long nights with men more than you could handle.

Taglist: @rosedpetal @dankoiseori @katcutie @peachlle @mrs-marc-spector

[curtisberzattos]

7. 14, 15, 20

7- Favorite non romantic relationships

Curtis brothers OBVIOUSLY but i also really really love Johnny and Two-Bit <///3 shout out to that one deleted scene and “i wish it was any one of us except johnny. we could get along without anyone but johnny.”

14- 5 headcanons i basically see as canon.

• ponyboy AUTISTIC

• darry AUTISTIC

• sodapop AUDHD

• that one headcanon that ‘johnnycake’ came from dally mishearing johnnys name

• soda influenced pony’s name because he really wanted a horse not a brother.

15- 5 self indulgent headcanons.

• dally’s mom was very catholic and said prayers to st. christopher anytime they had to move. he's not religious but he stole the st. christopher necklace because it reminded him of her. it's lost it's sentimental value over the years tho and is now just a cool accessory (i feel very strongly about this)

• darry is a math wiz and would've studied accounting

• two-bit and dally are actually really good friends but no one else likes hanging out with them because they are INSUFFERABLY annoying together

• soda and dally would rodeo together and dally made fun of him a Lot when sodas dad made him stop

• darry was a 10/10 older brother before the book. let them tag along when he went places, drove them around once he got a truck, helped them (especially soda) sneak out of they were in trouble. etc etc

20- character i relate to most.

two-bit. 😞 he is me i am him.

[outsidersheadcanons]

hey! so it’s canon that the curtis family went to church and so i was wondering if i could send some hcs about that? i wanted to make sure it’s okay with you first i don’t wanna seem like i’m pushing religion onto you!!

It's ok w me!! I'm actually somewhat Christian myself (unitarian! 🌈)

So.. to start there is NO WAY Sodapop Curtis is sitting through a Sunday service 😭 esp when he was a kid. Bro couldn't sit still or wear a tie (but Pony was the opposite. He really enjoyed church bc it was quiet and he could just sit with his parents. Darry as well)

For the most part the Curtises went to church for holidays like Easter, Christmas, etc. They weren't SUPER serious about going every weekend (and they couldn't usually because of work). I think they still said prayers at dinner though.

I think Mrs. Curtis wore a cross, and sometimes Darry wears it when he feels lost. I think Darry's the most religious out of the three of them, and he prays almost every night (mostly for Soda and Pony, but also for Johnny).

Ponyboy started praying more and going back to church post canon, and it definitely helped him during dark times. Religion helps him feel closer to his parents as well.

This kinda counts but whenever Ponyboy would misbehave or annoy Darry when he was a kid he'd go to the kitchen phone and pretend to call God 💀

[sixxteenbullets]

BODY ELECTRIC

DALLAS WINSTON X FEM!CURTIS!READER

SUMMARY: Getting over a toxic ex lover wasn't easy to do, so when y/n turns to parties and drinks to cope with her past, she gets into a situation she can't quite handle. Lucky for her, her brother's best friend has a protective streak when it comes to her.

WARNINGS: Mentions of a toxic past, being drugged, alcohol/various substance use, forced kissing, violence.

The music that used to be a gift on the ears began to fade, the words all coming together to be some incoherent mumbles. Y/n blinked once, twice, and the two shots she had moments earlier felt like they turned into ten. Her grip tightened on the can in her hand, but it seemed futile as the drink fell to the ground anyway. This confused her, and as she brought her hand close to her face to inspect, it seemed to blur, the small scars and texture disappearing. Was she dreaming?

That couldn't be it. The pounding in her head was way too real. As was the fatigue which took over her. "Are you alright?" The voice was unfamiliar, masculine, and somehow unpleasant.

When her gaze found his face, she still did not recognize him. He was older than her, maybe mid twenties, and wasn't exactly hard to look at. His face was fairly defined, his gaze hard and cold, and his eyes were a shocking, deep blue. "Yeah."

His lip tilted up, almost in a smile before he caught himself. "You don't look it, let me get you out of here." The unpleasantness she heard in his voice must have been the alcohol slurring his words because he absolutely reeked of it.

"No," She said firmly, ignoring the tempting offer of leaving the party. "No, I'm fine."

"let's go." Ignoring her protests, his large hand grabbed her hand and began to pull her out of the house. "Let's see what everyone fusses over."

"Fuck off." It was pathetic, her words. Whatever was in her system made it hard to talk.

Why was no one helping her, she thought. What was even happening?

She was too weak to protest as he pushed her against the brick wall of the house, its unusual dampness saturating the back of her shirt. Too weak to push him off as he planted his hands on her hips and leaned his face towards hers.

Y/n was never much of a believer in God. She never understood it. Though, in that moment, she prayed to whatever and whoever she could think of to get this piece of shit off of her. The taste of hard liquor infiltrated her mouth as he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tongue begging for entrance.

When he pulled away to breathe, she turned her head back and yelled, "Dallas," she continued to yell the name like it was her only prayer. "Dal!"

"That punk doesn't know what to do with a woman like you, Curtis." He took advantage of the angle of her head and began lowering his face to her neck.

What happened next made her begin to believe that maybe there was a god. Something greater than her and all she knew, because her pleas were answered.

The man was ripped away from her and thrown on the ground, a man quickly jumping on top of him. From what she could make out of the blurs, he was getting his ass beat. A few feet away, the door opened again and two more people walked out. They headed straight for the fight and pulled the attacker off, pointed to Y/n and took over the beating.

Fear coursed through her as she realised that perhaps they didn't want to help her, but take the previous man's place. As he approached, all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and shove herself back against the wall and shout for the man she wished for moments earlier. Where she expected to feel an invading touch, there was nothing. She was being picked up.

With no other way to object to this, she kept calling for her savior.

"Yeah, I'm here, Doll." The familiar voice of Dallas Winston rang through her ears like music.

"Can't go home," She leaned her head against his chest, trying her best to remain conscious. "Not like this."

"I know."

They were at Bucks minutes later, a party of its own booming on the inside. As they passed through the door, he had set her up right and looped an arm around her waist as one of hers went around his shoulders. It was easier to weave through the crowd this way, even as she fully relied on him to stay standing.

She never expected to be so happy to see his dirty little room. Being laid down on his creaky bed and helped to change into a large shirt to replace the one she had gotten dirty. It suddenly seemed like a safe haven.

Her laying down only lasted a few seconds, before she had to stumble run to the bathroom and empty her stomach. With every heave, dry or not, she felt her head get lighter. Whatever she has taken was leaving her system easily and she couldn't be more thankful. Halfway through her time in the bathroom, Dallas walked in and sat on the edge of the tub next to her. He lazily took over holding her hair back out of her face.

"That was dumb," He shook his head, she turned hers away from him and laid her face down on her arm, which rested against the toilet seat. "You know what could've happened if I wasn't there? If the Curly Sheperd didn't tell me that you were being dragged around by some old greaser?"

She said nothing. She knew exactly what would've happened, but she didn't want to hear it.

"God, that was dumb." The sound of his fingers gripping the porcelain of the tub made her cringe. Why was he so mad? "You co-"

"I know!" She tried to yell, but she was too drained to do so. "I get lectured by Darry every day, I don't need to hear you complain about having to help me."

That made him pause. He wasn't upset about having to save her, but about what could have happened to her. He didn't know what to say. Emotions made him insanely uncomfortable but there was no good way out of this situation.

He remained quiet even as she used a towel to wipe the spit from her lip and push herself away from the toilet. Only when she tried to stand did he move to keep her from falling. Silence, as he helped her to his bed.

Dallas wasn't sure where he was going to sleep. The last thing he wanted to do was fall asleep next to the drunk sister of his best friends, but the floor didn't call him either. Maybe he would crash at the Sheperd's, or go home with some girl as an excuse to get a bed. This plan appealed to him until he was at his door and Y/n called for him to stay.

A refusal was on the tip of his tongue, ready to be used, until he heard her say please. When he turned to look at her, she was laying on the very edge of the bed, half falling off, with plenty of room behind her. So, without a word, he climbed in behind her and laid on his back, doing his best to keep the space between them.

They remained in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." All tiredness left her body and he asked a question that has been burning a hole through him for a while now. "What's with all the partyin' now? Thought you hated 'em."

"They keep my mind busy. I don't like thinking anymore. Everything seems to remind me of Jason."

The mention of her ex boyfriend -- though 'fling' would be more accurate -- made him tense. Something bad, real bad, had happened between them, but no one knew. He didn't want to ask, but he was incredibly intrigued when she began telling the story anyway.

"He got with Sylvia just after he asked me to be his girl, threatened to kill me if I left, but his friends cooked him down, told me to get lost. Being with a crowd means lots of witnesses."

"I'll kill him." It wasn't a threat, nor an empty expression of anger, but a simple statement. A promise. He would kill him. She knew that.

"I know," She swallowed the thickness in her throat. "That's why I didn't tell anyone. They would go crazy and I don't want that, I just want some calm. I'm tired of bein' out every night."

This confession of hers made him feel a full range of emotions, mostly ranging from anger to pity to sadness and back to anger. How dare someone go after the girl he has had his eye on for so long. And then make her scared? He knew she wanted Jason to be killed, she just didn't want to have to deal with the aftermath. Usually he would agree, but this offence was far too serious to be let go. And he knew exactly how he would do it, too.

"Thank you, Dallas." She felt safe for the first time in a while. And when she woke up, Dallas Winston was gone. Her sadness was short lived, as when she was walking home, she overheard a group of girls fawning over the missing case of Jason Pinkman.

Dallas Winston really was her savior.

___

This could have been executed better, but whatever.

Give me requests y'all. Like go crazy with the details, PLEASE. Let me hear exactly what you want.

[honeybeeloxs]

PET FLAP

Stu Macher x Male Reader

It was initially headcanons, but I got way 2 into it... ALSO, BTW YOURE LIKE TATUM'S TWIN

SUMMARY:

No Mention of Y/N Stu invites you, Sidney, and your sister Tatum to a party at his place; you and Tatum don't invite Billy as he scared Sidney yesterday night.

"You can't be alone anymore, okay? You pee, I pee. Is that clear?" You overhear your sister tells Sidney you skipped over there, but you're stopped when Stu picks you up, you yelp, and he drops you by your sister; Tatum can tell by your face that you're not paying attention, so she hits your nose with a pencil. "Impromptu party tonight, my house. Celebrate this little fiesta. What do you think?" Stu questions Sidney and Tatum as he slings you over his shoulder. "Are you serious?" Sidney asks Stu, "Come on, Sidney, it will be fun, do it for me, please?" Tatum begs Sidney. "Okay… whatever, sure, I'll come." Sidney finally blurts out, and Stu smiles, "Yeah… You bring the snacks, okay, Babe?" Stu stares down, and you nod at him.

"You think Billy will be there?" Sidney looks at you and Tatum, you scoff, and Tatum rolls her eyes. "He better not be," Tatum turns to you. "You told Stu not to invite him, right?" she questions her twin; you stutter out, "Yeah." You don't like parties; you're only going because Stu is hosting it; if anyone else were hosting it, you wouldn't have come, no matter how much Stu begged and spoiled you with kisses. Your sister and Sidney were talking about Billy, and you're not paying attention, only pushing the grocery cart. 

"All right, you guys have fun." Dewey looks in the rearview mirror, eyeing you and Sidney in the back, "Not too much fun, or I'll bust ya." he says as Tatum gets out of the car and pulls the seat up so you and Sidney can wiggle out of the vehicle. "Yeah… Yeah, bye, Dewey." you wave to him, but you've pulled away when Tatum grabs your arm and drags you into Stu's farmhouse, giggling with Sidney right behind you two. "Here, kids!" Tatum shouts as you three head towards the kitchen, followed by shouting and whooping, "Oh… that's mature!" she spits out when she spots Stu pouring beer into a funnel. "You guys were tardy for the party, so we started without you," he responds as he pulls you in for a hug; you pull away when someone belches, "yuck!" you mumble to yourself.

"The Fog, Terror Train, Prom Night… Why is Jamie Lee Curtis in all of these movies?" Sidney says as she messes with the covers of the VHS tapes. "Because she's the scream queen," Randy replies, holding his hands in a prayer jester. Tatum walks over and plops next to Sidney with a toothpick in her mouth. The conversation ends when the doorbell rings. "I'll get that," Stu says as he climbs over you and the couch, falling. "Hey Babe, get me another beer, would ya?" he kisses you on the cheek before going to answer the door; you scoff and make your way to the garage. 

The garage motor chugs as you turn on the light; you push the button again, and the garage closes. You open up the fridge, the light illuminating the blue turtleneck you wear. "Damn it, Stu," you mumble as you eye the garage motor; you told him he needed to get that fixed like a few months ago. Humming to yourself, you don't notice Stu's cat that purrs and rubs his head against your jeans, "Hey Baby…" you say to the cat as you are grabbing a few beers for Stu; you know when he says he wants one, he's lying so you hold a couple just in case. The cat scurries away, running through the cat flap. 

"Hey, Dimwits!" you yell out as you try to push open the door leading to the house. Rolling your eyes, you hit the garage door, and the motor starts chugging; puzzled, you are about to leave the garage when it stops. You bend down to crawl out, but the garage door starts closing. "Damn it," you mutter to yourself; you're not paying attention as you look down. Ah, shit, you got a stain on your shoes. You bump into something with soft fabric; you look up to see someone in a Ghostface costume, "Hey Randy, lose the outfit; if Sidney or my sister sees it, they will draw blood," you chuckle to yourself as you try to push past him. "Alright, shithead, let me through," you say, venom in your voice as you try to squeeze past him, "Randy, drop the act, let me through," you say, shoving him a little bit, irritated. He shakes his head at you, and your smile perks up, "Oh! You wanna play psycho killer?" you question him, and he slowly nods; you continue to mock him before wrapping it up. "Okay, that's a wrap; now let me through." the Ghostface grabs your arm, "Randy, dude, cut it out," you yell at him; you see your reflection in a knife he's holding, "Randy!" you cry out as he slits your arm staining your turtleneck. Stumbling back, you fall into a lawn chair and get up from it in a rush.

"Fucker!" you scream at him as you throw the fridge's freezer door open, hitting your attacker in the face and making him fall. "Shit!" you mumble to yourself as the door is still locked; the man gets up and runs after you; you grab a few broken beer bottles and throw them at him, hitting him where the sun doesn't shine. He groans in pain as you try to find an escape. The pet flap! Why didn't you think of that before? You stumble to the pet flap before trying to squeeze your body through it, "Ow!" you say to yourself, and you tore your turtleneck a little bit; you got half of your body through it. The issue is your jeans aren't the most flexible. You panic when you hear the garage motor chugging away, lifting you. "Shit!" you scream as you finally get through the pet flap. You get up and stumble to the front of the house, killer hot on your toes; you bump into Stu, whose confused and asks what happened. You hugged him finally in the safety of your boyfriend. 

You need to get Tatum and Sidney and get the fuck out of here.

[b0n3s-is-gay]

I'd love a Darry Curtis x Reader where the reader finds out she's pregnant and she tells Darry and later the gang.

Maybe set after they're married and Pony's about to start college?

Le gasp! That is a great idea! (I got caught up in a lot of school and a bit of insanity, excuse my lateness)

Surprise Shorty!

Tags: Married life, mentions of Baby Fever, Darry being a softy for babies, Darry Curtis x Wife reader, Fluff, Alive Johnny and Dally AU!, set in the future.

Synopsis: Having a moment alone and her least favorite aunt, Aunt Flo, being late. You decide to take a pregnancy test after weeks of Darry trying to get you knocked up.

A/n: I'm not good at this, head empty moment. Sorry- I also did my research on these pregnancy tests, they're weird.

(Credit for the lovely banner goes to @cafekitsune )

I sighed as I leaned against the counter, the 2 hour mark coming up for the pregnancy test. I hadn't even consulted Darry when I bought the stupid thing but I needed to know because I had already missed my period. The damn test took so long but it would be worth it. Beep, beep, beep.... My small baking timer chirped. I grabbed the time and turned it off before turning to look at the little box, hoping to see the brown circle on a yellow background. I said a silent prayer to whatever was up there before I looked at the mirror. It was right there, the brown circle telling me that I was carrying for two. "Well... Darry did it." I hummed as I kept looking at the mirrored box. I sighed and grabbed the box, walking it to our shared room so I could put it on our bed before I started dinner. I fixed the room up before walking to the kitchen. After two hours, I had a nice dinner enough to feed an army. I knew who would be here, first to last. It was always Two-bit first because he worked around a bit. Then Ponyboy, Johnny, and Dally; they always traveled in a group after what happened with Bob. Sodapop, Steve, and Darry would be home last because Darry always picked up the two best friends from their jobs. Just as I started to put the dinner rolls in the oven, the train of people started coming in all in the order I predicted. Two-bit came in, said hello, grabbed a beer, and walked to the living room to watch Mickey. When I started the french onion soup, Ponyboy, Johnny, and Dally walked in. Pony gave me a hug, Johnny nodded his head softly, and Dally waved hello before joining Tow-bit in the living room. When I pulled the dinner rolls out of the oven, the final three walked in. Sodapop nodded tiredly, Steve grabbed a beer and smiled, and Darry came up behind me and gave me a kiss. He squeezed my hips before walking to our room to get changed out of his work clothes. I simply smiled and waited for him to find the test sitting on our bed as I got everyone served. "Darling, what's this?" Darry asked as he walked into the kitchen holding the pregnancy test in his hand, confused since it was a newer model of a pregnancy test. I shrugged, handed him a bowl of hot soup with a dinner roll, and kissed him. "Show it to Pony or Sodapop, they'll know what it is Pumpkin." I laughed as I sat down at the dinner table with the rest of the gang, smiling as I watched Darry with a grin while eating my own soup. Sodapop and Pony looked up from their separate conversations. Darry set the box on the table before sitting next to me to eat a hot meal. Dally, Sodapop, Ponyboy, and Two-bit all focused on the test; you could've heard a spoon drop. I sipped on my water before I heard Soda speak in a nonchalant tone. "So... am I gettin' a niece or a nephew?" Darry choked for a moment and coughed before speaking up. "Come again?" Darry asked as he looked at Sodapop, confused about what he just said. Soda shrugged before Pony spoke up, laughing before explaining. "Darry, that's one of 'em new at home pregnancy tests. It's sold at drug stores and I think I saw a few at the DX yesterday." Darry looked over at me shocked. I shrugged again and kept eating my dinner, knowing he'll need a minute.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

I will slowly be adding my previous stories over time. New stories will be up the same day as ao3.

What I currently have posted:

Time After Time: Modern!Eddie Munson x POC!Reader

Moonlight & Fang: Alpha!Jax Teller, Dean Winchester, Captain Syverson, Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes x OC Omega!Selene/Red

You Were Finished Long Before We Had Even Seen The Start: Indie Rocker!Eddie Munson x POC!Indie Rocker!Reader “Sug” x Fuckboy!Steve Harrington (Drabble I) (Drabble II) (Drabble III)

LUNATIC: Avengers x POC!Reader "Nyx"

That First Night: POC!Reader x Nomad!Steve Rogers

Why Did Love Put A Gun In My Hand: Mafia!Avengers x POC Reader “Jinx”

It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way, you're happy without me...: Hunterverse AU, Sy, Walter, Curtis (Lumberjack & the 2 bears) x POC Reader "Havoc/TG" Ex Dean x Reader

Let Me Spell It Out For You: Jax Teller x Rockstar!Reader "Firefly" Ex Bf!Rockstar!Steve Rogers x Reader

Why You Calling Me Tonight: Ex!August Walker x POC!Reader Walter Marshall x POC!Reader (Challenge Accepted/Part 2)

Sandalwood, Leather, Mead & Honey: Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky. Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky x Steve.

Bittersweet: POC!Reader “Lux” x Walter Marshall (How Do You Love Me/Part 2) (Go Ahead And Lock Me Up Drabble)

Affinity Series: Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader, Alpha!Steve x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader, Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

Don't Care If It Sounds Cold. It Is, What It Is: Bucky x POC!Reader, Ex!Steve Rogers x POC!Reader

Badda Boom Universe: Alpha!Jax Teller x Omega!POC!Reader "LuLu"

I got all these issues. Will you be my prescription?: Bucky Barnes x POC!Reader

Sinners Prayer: Mafia!Stucky x POC Escort!Reader “Sin”

Strings Attached: Mechanic!Biker!Sy x POC!Reader

Eff Being Friends: Steve Rogers x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader “Ci”, ? x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader “Ci”, Ex!Thor x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader "Ci”, Ex!Loki x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader "Ci”

Off To Never Never Land: Eddie Munson x POC!Reader

From The Jump: Dean Winchester x POC!Reader "Wildflower"

Please Believe Me: August x POC!Reader, Andy Barber x POC!Reader