#sorry it took me a month to reply to this DX

[kenny-power]

Gas Station Coffee

Sodapop Curtis x Reader

Warnings: slight use of language,

Fluff

A/N - this is my first imagine for The Outsiders. IDK if anyone would actually read this, but please feel free to vote or comment, just so I know you're there! I also will try my best to keep the imagines gender-neutral to include everyone. Thanks so much!

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If there was anything I hated more than working the night shift of the rowdiest diner in town, it's the walk home. Feet sore, smelling like ketchup and stale coffee - it was the worst part of my mornings. Of course, I could get a car, but then I wouldn't be able to afford food for a couple of months. And I won't even think about asking for a ride home, the people who hang around the diner in the late hours of the night and early hours of the day are always unpleasant, coworkers included.

So, that leaves me stuck with walking home. Honestly, I'm probably being dramatic. The walk from the diner to my single-story family home is only about 30 minutes, 25 if I'm feeling particularly motivated (meaning I have something at home that I need to study for before taking a quick nap and going to school). Being a senior in high school and having to single-handedly support myself and my little brother is a real drag. It's tough, but it's life and if I don't do it, then nobody else will. Because there is no one else.

I never knew my father, and from what I gathered, he was a real bum. My ma is a different story. She was the light of my life, my best friend. As little as our small family had, she made the most of it. That is, until she passed away last year. Cancer is a bitch.

Anyways, tonight's shift was a hard one. There's a rodeo in town for the weekend, so the amount of customers there was more than double, yet the tips still sucked. I had gotten yelled at and berated by so many different people over the littlest of things. If I didn't need this job to survive, I would've quit a long time ago.

My head is pounding. Golly, I need a coffee.

Just in luck, I was about to pass a DX station. Now if I could help it, I would steer clear from coffee from a gas station, something about it is always a little off. However, desperate times call for desperate measures and I couldn't afford to be picky with the quality of my coffee.

Sighing heavily, I trudge into the station. The bell above the door rang cheerily, signaling my entrance. Faintly, I heard the person covering the front counter groan quietly. I stifled a laugh, I would probably have the same reaction to a customer coming in at 6:30 in the morning.

I made my way to the back of the store, straight for the beat-up coffee machine. Grabbing an insulated cup, I put it under the dispenser and waited for it to fill with the beverage. Yawning, I pick up the now full cup and trudge my way over to the checkout counter. Setting the coffee done on the counter, I start to rummage around in the apron I'm still wearing, looking for loose change.

"That'll be 35 cents," a male voice says softly. Pulling the change out, I finally look up to hand it over. I make eye contact with the cashier and, I kid you not, he was the prettiest boy I have ever seen. He gives me a faint smile and I realize I still haven't given him the change.

"Oh, sorry!" I say quickly, putting my quarter and dime in his outstretched hand, our fingers barely brushing. A small electrical jolt runs through our fingertips and we make eye contact again.

"Rough night?" He asks, gesturing to my unruly hair and stained Dingo uniform.

"Ugh, yes," I groaned, trying to comb through my hair with my fingers. "There's a rodeo in town this weekend and apparently everyone there wants to eat at the Dingo." He laughed a little and my heart skipped a beat. What a beautiful sound.

"You work at the Dingo?" He asked.

"Every week-night and during the day on weekends."

"Wow, that's a lot. You look don't look old enough to have a full-time job. Do you go to school anywhere?" I smiled wearily, I get this question all the time.

"I'm a senior at the high school, I just work a lot to support me and my little brother." The boy's face brightened. What a truly beautiful sight.

"I do the same thing! I work here to help my brother Darry with the bills, only I don't go to school anymore." I smiled at his excitability.

"How very noble of you, brother-of-Darry."

"It's Sodapop, actually." He said.

"That's your actual name?" I asked.

"Says so on my birth certificate," he replied.

"What a wonderful name," I said, "very original." His face colored red.

"Well, my pops was an original person," he said proudly.

I told him my name.

"It suits you, except for that last name bit. Bet I could convince you to change it." Now it was my turn to blush.

"Are you flirting with me, Sodapop?"

"What if I am?" He asked, leaning his elbows on the counter and getting closer to me. "What you gonna do about it?" My heart fluttered inside of my chest and If I could have any turned redder, I probably would have. I cleared my throat, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Oh my, you are too much." I checked the watch on my wrist for the time. "Oh shoot, I need to go home." I smiled at him and turned to leave, coffee in my hand.

"Wait!" He said, catching my arm. "Can I see you again?"

"Maybe," I said, raising my coffee cup in a toast and smiling at him. "Bye, Sodapop." I stepped out of the DX and took a sip of my drink. Disgusting.

Yet, I somehow knew that I'd be coming back for more gas station coffee.

[theoutsidersdirtyimagines]

You sneak out… and Darry finds out. (Sisterfic) (Part 2 of x)

A/N: Hi guys... This was a request from Anon... Please don’t forgot to like and reblog :) I didn’t realise how big this was... looks like there’ll be a part 3 to this. 

Darry was up making breakfast just like he was every other morning, except this time a cigarette hung from his lips as he read the newspaper that was left on the porch this morning.

He didn’t say a word to you like he normally would when you’d enter the kitchen - in fact, he didn’t say a word to anyone... not even Sodapop who cheerfully greeted him. 

“Darry, are you alright?” Sodapop asked, his eyebrows knitted together as he stared at you wordlessly as if to say ‘What’s going on?’ 

“Mmm” He hummed, turning the eggs over, not sparing him a look.

You took a second to look at him - really look at him... his hair was disheveled, the hand that was grasping the newspaper shook so slightly you could almost miss it... and that damned cigarette still hung from his lips as he drew in the smoke and exhaled it to the room. 

He looked like he had just woken up this morning and decided to give up... and you knew it was all your fault. 

“Okay” Sodapop said with a grimace. 

“Hey Darry, have you seen my track shirt?” Ponyboy asked, poking his head into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“No.” He said simply - Darry didn’t even stop to scold Ponyboy for being careless and leaving his clothes lying around... he didn’t even make a move to help Ponyboy look like he normally would have or muttering about how he’s going to be late if he doesn’t get a move on real soon. 

“Oh. Okay.”  

Ponyboy looks at you and Sodapop, wanting an explanation as to what had gotten into his big brother.

“Breakfast is ready.” Darry says softly, he doesn’t even stop to get himself a plate... he just walks on into his room and shuts the door.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ponyboy asked. 

“I don’t know... but whatever it is, it must be big... I’ve never seen him like this before.” Sodapop sighed, running his fingers through his perfectly greased hair. “Maybe I should go to talk to him” 

“No...” You spoke up for the first time this morning. “I’ll talk to him.” 

“Okay.” Sodapop nodded. “Ponyboy I saw your track shirt underneath the bed, hurry up and get dressed so you can eat breakfast and get going to school.” 

You walked up to Darry’s door, pursing your lips as you taped your knuckles against the wood. 

“Yeah?” He replies somberly. 

You open the door to find Darry sitting on his bed, staring blankly at the wall. 

“I haven’t seen your math book. Or Ponyboy’s track shirt or Sodapop’s DX shirt for that matter. I don’t know where your gym shoes are, I don’t know what’s for dinner tonight - I don’t know what I’m doing, okay?” His voice is barely above a whisper but golly, you can hear just how strained his voice is as he wills himself not to cry in front of you. 

“Darry...” You trailed off, not knowing what to say to your big brother. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I’m doing. Mum and dad died 5 months ago and I screw you three up every single day and I have to live with knowing that they’re looking down on me watching me do it. Sometimes...” Darry clenched his eyes shut, tears trickling down his cheeks as he said the exact thing he’d been thinking for months. 

“Sometimes I wish it were me that died in that car wreck and not them, ya’ll need them, not me.” 

“No... Darry. No.” You whispered brokenly. “Don’t say that. Don’t think that. We need you... I need you. I don’t know if I could get along without you.” 

“If you needed me so badly, you wouldn’t have runaway last night. You would’ve been at home in your bed, safe and sound... not gallivanting the streets with Dally. I’m sorry that I can’t be what you, Ponyboy and Sodapop need.” 

“Darry. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to disappoint you or scare you. I’m sorry I ran off, I just didn’t think, okay? I didn’t think about the consequences. I didn’t think about anyone but myself.” By now you were sobbing, tears wracked your body as you looked at your brother guilt stricken.

 You were the reason he was unfolding before you. You had broken the unbreakable. Superman was coming undone and you were the kryptonite that had done it.

“I’m the failure, not you. I’m the one that should be ashamed. I’m the screw up.” 

Darry shook his head ‘no’. “No you’re not kid. It’s all me.” 

“I need you. You’re the only one that hold’s us all together, you’re Superman, you’re my hero... and I know that mum and dad are looking down on you and they’re thinking about how wise and mature you have become since they’ve been gone.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a bone crushing hug... he knew you needed the comfort just as much as he did. 

“I love you Darry.” You whispered, your breath hitting his shoulder “I didn’t mean to disappoint you.” 

“I love you too kid. Just don’t ever sneak out again, you dig? We all need to get out sometimes, and that’s okay... but please, please have the good sense to take one of the gang with you... and not at 3 in the morning either.” 

“Okay” You agreed, smiling as he ruffled your hair. 

[thisfoolwrites]

My World

Hello everyone and welcome to my new story. Based VERY LOOSLY on Shameless because I only saw one clip and it gave my inspiration. {Sorry for the crappy title I’m not that creative Dx} Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu or Shameless Character: Hajime Iwaizumi Genre: Angst with fluff Warnings: None for this chapter

Mornings in the {L/N} household were usually calm and organized. Yuki and Shouta would be dressed for school and and {Y/N} would have had breakfast ready to go. Usually. Today was not that day. A certain older sibling had forgotten to set an alarm, causing the usually calm mornings to erupt into pure and utter chaos. “YUKI, SHOUTA lets go!” {Y/N} Hollered up the stairs. She clicked her tongue as she got their backpacks together. Slipping the bentos that she had made up last night. She was about to holler again when two sets of footsteps came down the stairs. She let out a sigh of relief as she slipped jackets onto the smaller kids. “No breakfast today?” Yuki's blue eyes bore into her older sisters eyes. This question was not said with any ill intent, but out of childlike curiosity. {Y/N} felt her heart break at the question and just shook her head. “Not today baby, but I promise tomorrow I will wake up bright and early and make you your favorites ok?” Earning a nod of approval from both kids. “Now, were all running late and all I have right now are pop tarts. I'm really sorry guys.” Handing them each a package she made a mental note to buy more just in case. After ushering both kids out of the house and on their way to the school she ran back inside to get her purse and work jacket. In her attempt to lock the door quickly she dropped the keys. As she was leaning down to get them her phone rang. She groaned and answered without looking. “Hello?” she grumbled into the phone. Hoping whoever it was on the other end could sense her frustrations. “That's not very friendly {Y/N}-Chan. And here I was calling to give you good news.” She froze hearing that voice. Almost breaking into tears. “I'm running late for work ShittyKawa, better make it fast.” came her snarky reply, hoping that he didn't hear the break in her voice. She looked at her watch and began to make her way to the train station. Running was no longer an option and she hoped she didn't get fired. Not that she was usually late, but that was always her fear. “Ignoring the out of pocket behavior from you,” So he did notice, she thought, “Me and Iwa-chan will be coming home for a little bit. He’s out of school for spring break, and the team gave us a month vacation!” He finished with a huge smile on his face. She couldn't help but smile. She missed her boys so much. “You both get to buy me lunch for leaving me!” she decided. “For all my pain and suffering.” “Says you Miss Tokyo U!” he laughed along with her. Upon hearing those the weight of everything came crashing back down. “Anyway 'Kawa, I am late for work so I gotta get off. Love and miss you both!” She said and hung up without waiting for a reply. Once on the train she let her thoughts take over. She knew that he would be worried, because her behavior was indeed off, but how was she supposed to tell him that she didn't go to Tokyo U and was taking online classes at night from a local community college? How was she supposed to tell her best friend and boyfriend that her mother up and left leaving her two kid siblings in her care? Sitting down on the seat she glanced out the window. “How do I tell you my life fell apart when yours just began?” She whispered. Hearing her phone buzz she glanced back down at her lap. It was a message from Hajime's mother.

Don't worry about the kids. I'll make sure they come here after school. Take care of yourself as well {Y/N}. She owed that woman so much, and she fully intended to pay her and her husband back.

Oikawa starred at his phone. There was something in the way that she spoke to him. He sighed and closed his eyes. Before he could even form a thought the smell of coffee was right in his face. Opening his eyes he noticed his best friend with two cups. “You are the best Iwa-Chan!” she grinned taking the cup from him. “Yeah yeah. Did you tell her?” Iwaizumi asked him. Oikawa just nodded at him. Before freezing up. “Whats that look for Shittykawa?” “I may not have told her we would be home tonight?” Iwaizumi just starred at him, reminding him of high school. “Well just have to swing by Tokyo to see her tomorrow. It'll be a surprise.” He waved his hand brushing off his mistake. He was supposed to mention that but he was distracted by the break in her voice. “Iwa, have to talked to her recently?” he asked gently. “Its been a few weeks. I called her during finals week and she sounded stressed. To be honest I've been worried about her. My mom wont tell me anything besides its been stressful for her. Not sure what that means. I hope I can take away some of that stress.” Before either boy got a chance to say anything, their flight was called and they boarded the plane.

Nine o'clock rolled around and {Y/N} walked up to the Iwaizumi's door. They had always lived on the same street so it made picking up her siblings pretty easy. When she walked up the steps she didn't even have a chance to knock on the door. Mai Iwaizumi smiled at her and called for the two kids. “Thank you so much for letting them come over today. I promise I'll be off in time to be home for them tomorrow. They just-” “I've told you before its ok. Besides I love these two like my own children. Now, they have eaten so don't let them trick you, and their homework is complete.” {Y/N} Just smiled at the woman. She had always looked up to this woman, hoping one day that this could be her mother. Before the two could converse more, her two siblings barreled into her giving her a bone crushing hug. The four of them just laughed and {Y/N} waved and led the two kids home. Upon reaching their destination they all hurried inside. {Y/N} took their backpacks and sent them upstairs to change and get ready for bed. Dropping her own stuff off at the kitchen table she pulled the empty bento boxes out of the backpacks. She placed them in the sink and silently made a vow to wash them later. She headed upstairs into her own bedroom, ignoring the empty master bedroom to the right of hers. She was about to slip out of her work shirt when she heard her name being called from the room over. Heading on over she noticed both kids curled up in Shouta's bed. Smiling she headed into the room and crouched down by the bed. “Whats up guys?” she asked softly, with a gentle smile on her face. Shouta just got a wide smile on his face. “We played volleyball today in PE and the teacher said I have a talent for it. I was wondering if there was anyway I could join the volleyball club.” Shouta asked. {Y/N}'s smile dropped a bit before she  placed a hand on his head. “I know you wanna play volleyball Sho, I understand, I do. But we just cant afford it right now.” she said softly, stoking the little boys head. His smile vanished but he just nodded his head. Money had been tight and his sister was working two jobs just to pay bills and put food on the table. Shouta mumbled a goodnight before rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head. {Y/N} Sighed and picked up Yuki and took her to the girls own room. The smaller girl watched as her sister tucked her in. “Hey {N/N?}” she quietly called causing the older girl to look at her. Yuki may have been only nine years old, but she could just see the sadness in her sisters eyes. “Do you think mommy will ever come home?” {Y/N} felt her heart break. She gently smiled and rubbed the top of Yuki's head. “I don't know baby. We'll cross that bridge when we get there.” She bent down to give her a kiss on the head. “Night Yu.” she said quietly closing the door. She peeked into Shouta's room to see that he was sound asleep. She smiled softly before closing his door and heading downstairs. She sat down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. Some days all she wanted to do was break down and cry, but that voice in the back of her head told her to be strong. She stood up and quietly made herself some food. Taking a glance at the coffee pot she debated whether or not to make a cup. Deciding against it because of the chaos this morning she grabbed her plate and headed on up to her room to work on schoolwork. When she sat down she noticed that she had missed messages on her phone.

Haji: Hey you up? Haji: If you are awake can you call me so I can hear your voice? I miss you. Looking at the time she decided against calling him. It wasn't that she was ignoring him, she just didn't know what to say and it was getting late. After setting a few alarms on her phone, to make sure they get up on time, she quickly set off on finishing up her essay for class. It wasn't the degree she wanted but right now she couldn't be picky. She needed to get a better job to provide for her siblings. And she was determined that she was gonna do right by them, unlike their mother. She glanced at the photo beside her laptop. It was her and her dad when she was 14. How she missed him. Fate worked in cruel ways sometimes and taking her father had been the cruelest to her. She shook her head to get rid of all the sad thoughts swirling around in her head. She would have all the time in the world to mope once she finished school. Once she did that she would work on getting the kids out of Miyagi and to a place where everyone wouldn't look at them in pity. Its the kids whose mother abandoned them. She wanted a place where they wouldn't look at her in pity. She didn't want to be known as the girl who turned down a full ride scholarship to Tokyo University anymore.

[kennibean]

Sodapop and Steve; A Love Triangle Pt. 1

Not my GIF! There will be POV switches throughout the story so I will label them as best as I can

I spit blood into the sink as I finished brushing my teeth. Looking in the mirror I decided to let my hair down from the ponytail it was already in and wear it down for the upcoming school day. I slipped into my leather jacket and headed downstairs. There I saw my mom, arms tucked underneath her, on the couch with the beer bottles on the side table. I let out a short sigh and slid out the door to go to school. The first day of hell. Again. 

I walked into school to find two familiar faces arm wrestling on a table in the Hallway. They just happened to be my two best friends Sodapop Curtis and Steve Randle. “Hey Dumb and Dumber! I bet I could beat the both of y’all.” I yelled at them.

“Y/N!” Sodapop said with a smile. Steve picked me up and twirled me around like a rag doll. “How’s it goin’? I haven’t seen you all summer.”

“What’re you talkin’ about Sodapop?” I asked trying to wriggle free from Steve’s grip. “I saw you two days ago.” Finally I was free.

“Well it feels like two months ago.” He dragged on.

“Time was always funny with you, Soda.” I said back.

“Anyways, I gotta get to work. See y’all later.” Soda said as Steve and I walked to class. Math was first and being in honors math I get grouped with all the socs. Sadly, Steve and I only have History, Auto Mechanics, and Gym together. And unfortunately Soda has to work full time since his parents died in the car wreck. 

I hugged Steve goodbye and put on my tough face for what was about to come. As if on cue three socs began to make fun of me for being a greaser. I don’t understand why we get the bad rap. Surely most of us rob gas stations and such but at least we don’t go out of our territory to jump other people. Well unless your Dallas Winston or a part of the Shepard gang. But not all of us are like that. 

Soda’s POV 

I sat behind the counter at the DX. It sure was a slow day. If only I wasn’t so dumb, maybe I could be at school with Y/N. If only I hadn’t dropped out I could be at school with her. She could always cheer me or Steve up when she wasn’t in a bad mood. But when she was mad all hell broke loose. But I love her for that. She never took shit from people and never needed someone to back her up in a fight. I was snapped out of my thoughts when the bell rang on the door. Two people walked in. Two people that I knew all too well. Y/N and Steve walked in. probably for lunch, unless they both got suspended. 

“What’s happenin’ in here Soda? Slow day?” Steve asked

“Uh, yeah.” I responded trying to get my gaze away from Y/N. She almost never wore her hair down. But today she looked even more pretty because of it. The way her curls bounced with each step she took. My eyes wouldn’t leave her.

“What’re you lookin’ at Sodapop.” She said suddenly, snapping me from my trance. 

“I-uh-” I struggled for an answer.

“Nah, its ok man. I’m just messin’ with you” I let out a quiet sigh of relief and struck up another conversation. 

“So, what are you guys doing here? Y’all get suspended or somethin’?” 

“Y/N, here, did. Got into a fight with some soc. But I’m just here for lunch.” Steve said as Y/N smiled at her accomplishment. 

“Fought a soc Y/N?” I asked. She smiled and nodded.

“Yup. But he was being a total jackass.” She took a sip from her coke. “He held the book up over my head so I couldn’t grab it.”

“Oh God.” I said to her. “He must’ve really been in for a treat.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Steve said. 

“Anyways,” Y/N carried on. “No school for three days. Suspended on the first day of school. Now that’s a record.”

“At least you won’t be missin’ much, now will ya.” Steve replied to her comment.

“Nope.” 

“Well Y/N what’re you gonna do in the meantime?” I asked.

“I dunno.” She replied. “Probably work and hang here with you. If ya don’t mind?”

“Not one bit, Doll.” I said. At least I’ll be able to have some time alone with her. Eventually they left and I was back with nothing to do but think.

A/N: Sorry to those of you who made it through. This sucks, I know. But here it is anyway. Hopefully it will get better as the parts go on.

[moonlitalien]

AH sorry it took me forever to reply, I know these were pride month asks but I totally forgot to answer DX anyway, I made a little chart, I don’t think i forgot anyone! As for their respective genders all of them are cisgender! I would do it for my non-SW OCs too but I think I ran out of space in this post haha 

[giddyupponyboy]

Friends with Benefits

Anonymous asked: Hi!! I wanted to request a Steve Randle imagine,, something angsty and really fluffy. Thank you😊

Warnings: Swearing o:

a/n:  I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long  I was having trouble writing the second half but I hope I did it enough justice

ok lets goo

She knew she shouldn’t be visiting him in the middle of the night. Slowly dragging her feet down the sidewalk, she willed herself to stop, to go home before this got out of hand, but she continued anyway.  She hated herself every time she did it, but she needed him. She needed him just as much as she didn’t want to see him. What started as something simple morphed into something she would have never anticipated. And unrequited love is painful in any situation, even when you already know the most intimate parts of someone. Steve was her friend; she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him.

What was just supposed to be a one time endeavor many months ago had quickly become a frequent occurrence between them. In the beginning, they both agreed that it was strictly sex. No feelings. And, it was fun for a while. They had gone on many adventures together, having fun in many different places. But it was also more than that. They did spend quite a bit of time together, and told each other almost everything. When they were finished they’d always cuddle, sometimes for hours. They talked about anything and everything. He knew things about her no one dared to discover in a long time, and they were happy together. That was until she started feeling much different about him.

What was it about that boy? His cockiness? His crooked smile? His nose? Whatever it was she couldn’t place her finger on it. She didn’t quite know when these feelings for him erupted either. One day, she found herself daydreaming about him for quite a long time. Then, the next time she saw him, she suddenly got nervous and butterflies swarmed in her stomach.  She knew what that meant, the rule was broken. How do they go from there? What if one day he found another girl, one that he wanted to make his own. What was she to do then? Her stomach would twist uncomfortably at the thought, but she kept those feelings repressed until they bottled up inside and she couldn’t continue any longer.

Tonight was the night. She was going to put a stop to it before she got hurt, and the decision was final. 

She approached his house with caution, trying to avoid making too much sound as she walked up the steps of the porch. He had been expecting her, as when she made it to the door he was already standing there; nude aside from a pair of boxers. She’d seen him naked countless times before, but it seemed like now every time she saw him, she was progressively more nervous than the last. She quickly took a glance at him, noticing his disheveled hair and tired eyes. She looked away, too shy to hold any sort of eye contact.

“Hello, (y/n),” He purred, quite happy to see her.

“Hi, Steve.” She replied, looking everywhere else but him. Her face was burning like the sun, she hoped he didn’t notice.

He stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. She kept her head low as she walked past him and made her way to his room, something she’d done countless times in the past. She sat on his bed as he entered, closing the door behind him. The moonlight filtered in from the window, illuminating the room in a dull glow.

Without any words, he gently guided her onto her back, positioning his figure on top. Her heart pounded in her chest as she felt his warm breath on her face. She wanted him, but the fact that they were only supposed to be friends with benefits simply wasn’t okay. New emotions got in the way and she didn’t want that for them anymore. She wanted something more, but she wasn’t sure if her wish would ever be fulfilled.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Steve pressed his lips to hers. He needed her. For a moment, she was in paradise, His strong figure covering and protecting her, his lips moving together with hers, feeling him pressed against her thigh. But that was only for a moment, then the negative thoughts pushed their way back in.

She put her hands on his bare chest, trying to push him off. He realized immediately and climbed off of her, standing at the foot of the bed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a concerned tone, wiping the stray spit from his lip.

She sat up and looked down, balling her fists on her knees. A lump formed in her throat. “I-I can’t do this anymore, Steve.”

He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, pulling her close.

“No,” She said, not wanting to give too much information.

He sat there, rather unsatisfied with the answer. “Well, what is it then?”

“I think it’s best if we just stop this.” She said flatly.

He was dumbfounded. She seemed quite eager about the idea when he proposed it all those months ago. “Why?” 

She didn’t want to tell him the answer. She couldn’t. No feelings; it was what they agreed on. The unrequited love made her embarrassed and upset. She hadn’t anticipated this, and some distance was what she decided was best. She sat there with his arm wrapped around her, trying to think of an excuse. 

She simply shook her head. “I should probably leave now.” She said, trying to get up but a firm hand grasped her wrist.

“What is wrong, (y/n)?” He asked again, a tone of urgency in his voice. 

“I just think we need space.” she said quietly, not turning around to look at him. He stood up and turned her around, hands firmly placed on her shoulders.

“But why? I thought we had something good going here.” He said with pleading eyes.

She continued to avoid his gaze, looking to the floor as she spoke quietly, “I can’t keep this up if I’m in love with you.” 

“W-what?” Steve said. Before he could say anything else she escaped from his hands and was already out the door. “Wait, (y/n!)” he ran after her, but by the time he made it to his front door, she had already made it to the sidewalk, running down the street and escaping into the night. 

-

She spent three next few weeks actively avoiding Steve. She knew where he’d be most days, swapping from the DX to the Curtis house. Even though she missed the boys, she thought it best to stay away as much as possible. It hurt at first, but as time went on she slowly started to forget about him, keeping herself occupied with her friends and family.

All her progress was reversed one fateful evening when she was reading in her backyard. It was a nice mild evening, the ambient noises in the neighborhood calming and tranquil. The sun was just begging to set, but she was too occupied to notice. Her nose was buried in the book, her legs splayed out before her as she laid down on her lawn chair. She had just gotten to the climax, reading intently; she didn’t notice someone approach her.

“(Y/n?)” the voice asked. She looked up and her heart jumped as she saw Steve standing there. He looked cleaner than usual, his clothes free of any rips or grime, and his hair was in perfect condition.

“Steve!” She gasped nervously as she sat up properly in her lawn chair. “How did you-“

“Your mom told me you were in the backyard.” He said awkwardly.

“I see,” she replied, closing her book and placing it on her lap. He stared at her with heartfelt eyes.

She noticed him staring and felt awkward. “What are you doing here?” She questioned cautiously, feeling worried by his presence.

“Oh!” He said, being pulled from his thoughts. He took a seat at the end of the lawn chair, pulling out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back. “I, uh, brought you these.” He said. She was taken by surprise at the gesture, but flattered none the less.

“Oh, thank you.” she hesitated, grasping the small bundle. They look like they’d just been picked. “How have you been?” She asked, breaking the ice.

“Good,” he shrugged. “Not much else has been happening. The boys have been wondering where you’ve been.”

She picked at the flowers in her hand, gently ripping off the small leaves near the bottom of the stems. “Just needed to do my own thing for a while.”

Steve nodded as he looked down at his hands, his fingers fumbling with nervousness. “What happened to us, (y/n?)?” He blurted out.

She sighed heavily. “Do I really need to repeat myself?” She asked. A light blush touched her cheeks at the thought of having to pour her feelings out to him again.

He sat quietly for a moment, pondering the past. “Do you remember how it started?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yes-“

“Why did we only agree to make it that? No strings attached?” He asked.

“Why are you-“

“It’s a genuine question, (y/n), because I don’t really know.”

She placed the flowers beside her on the chair and crossed her arms defensively. “I don’t know.” She said flatly.

Steve looked at her with pleading eyes. “Listen, (y/n).” He began. “I’m sorry things turned out the way they did. I’ve really missed you these past few weeks. It’s been hard not seeing you.” He looked at her, waiting for a response. She sat there, tight lipped, gazing at him and not saying a word. He sighed before continuing. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is I miss you. And I was wondering... if we could try again-” 

She furrowed her brow, anger surging within her as she listened to him speak. She stopped him before he could explain further.

“You came over and offered me these just to ask if we can go back to fucking again?” She scoffed. “Do you not remember what I told you, Steve? We can’t go back to that!”

“No! That’s not what I meant!” He defended, inching closer before continuing. “That came out wrong.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up a bit. “What I meant was I miss you. I miss the laughs we had, and the cuddling we did.These past few weeks have been kinda hard not seeing you. We got along really well, don’t you think?” 

She sat there bewildered at the words that were falling from his lips. Was she dreaming? Her heart began to skip beats which made her realize that no, this was real.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is I want to try again, but I want you to be my girlfriend this time.” He put a hand on her thigh. “I didn’t want to say anything earlier because what we had was working. I didn’t think you felt anything else for me.”

“Oh my,” She began. “I’m so sorry I got so upset.” she said, climbing onto her knees to sit closer to him. It made sense now, why he looked so put together tonight and why he brought her flowers. She smiled to herself knowing he went out of his way to make sure he looked his best.

“I was too afraid to tell you sooner.” She said. “I guess we probably need to communicate better.”

“I thought you knew!” He laughed. “I thought I was being very obvious. We were a lot closer than just two people who fuck. At least, that’s what I thought.”

Though this is the outcome she wanted, she never anticipated it. The love was never unrequited, they were just afraid to lose each other.

“So, what do you say?” He said, gazing at her with his brilliant blue eyes.”Be my girlfriend, (y/n)?”

“I’d love that.” She grinned widely. She pressed a quick peck to his lips before pulling away.

“What the hell was that?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” She asked, taken aback by his tone.

“That wasn’t a kiss. This is a kiss.” he said, lunging forward and pressing his lips to hers. She fell back onto the lawn chair as he steadied himself on top. 

This felt right. No fear of losing him, no worries about how he really felt about her. It was perfect, and she couldn’t be happier.

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

Dx: the New Amazon[AU]

Masterlists: [Hollywood U] || [Red Carpet Diaries]  || [Baby Hunt]  || [Love & Scotch HWU/OH]  ||  [#HollywoodHacks HWU/LH] – – – Characters: Alex, Thomas Hunt, Ethan Ramsey, Ellie Shephard (OH: MC) Mentioned: Addison Sinclair ; Ethan Blake (Alex’s agent and Addison’s S.O.) Notes: Truth @choicesmaychallenge; @kinda-iconic​

Catch up on Love and Scotch

This takes place in my Hollywood U AU... Alex and Hunt are engaged and planning their wedding. Ethan is an old friend who is struggling to keep a professional relationship with the newest member of his diagnostics team *** This is set after OH2 Chapter 8. ***

This takes place a day or so after the previous part dx:worth the risk

☆  ☆   ☆   ☆   ☆

“Can you get that?” Hunt questioned, hearing the doorbell. He flipped the Chicken Marsala over in the pan. 

Alex took another sip of her Chardonnay before hopping off the counter. “Expecting someone?”

“Not at all. My guess would be Addison. She seems to make regular unexpected wedding prep visits at the most inconvenient times,” Hunt complained. 

“She’s just a bit over excited to be designing my dress and the bridesmaids gowns. She’s been dreaming of this wedding for almost as long as I have!” Alex kissed his cheek. 

“Is that why I feel like I’m somehow marrying the two of you?” Hunt raised his brow. 

“You could be, but we’d have to fight Ethan [Blake] for her first,” She winked, as the doorbell rang again. “I’ll tell her to come back tomorrow. We can’t have you overhearing any of our secrets.” 

“You know I love you, Addi,” Alex began speaking as she opened the door. “But, perhaps you could give me a heads up–”

“Sorry, I would have called, but I didn’t actually know I was coming.” The tall doctor seemed just as surprised to be standing in front of their door as she was to see him. 

“Hmm...The beard looks good. This look works for you.” Alex’s gaze drifted up and down him, taking in his new look for the first time in person. She’d miss his grandpa sweaters, but she had to admit the green jacket was hot.

“Are you going to invite me in?” He questioned, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Should I set an extra plate?” Hunt called from the kitchen.

“Yes please,” Alex replied. A grin spreading on her face toward their unexpected guest. “Come on in.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. This was a mistake,” he turned to leave. 

For the first time, she noticed the slight bags under his eyes marking his weary face. “You’re here now and you came for a reason. You’re a long way from Boston. The least we can do is invite you to stay the night. Let’s talk inside.”

He nodded following her into the house without another word. 

“Look who I found,” Alex teased returning to the kitchen.

“Ethan?” Hunt questioned with alarm. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Ethan stated matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You hate L.A.,” Hunt responded. “And, we spoke last night; you didn’t mention anything about visiting.”

“It wasn’t exactly a planned trip,” Ethan admitted. “My apologies for imposing.”

“You’re always welcomed here, my friend,” Hunt replied. “I’m just curious as to why you’re here.”

“Truthfully? I’m not quite sure myself,” Ethan confessed, his face filled with a nervousness neither of them had seen before.

“Have you talked to Ellie yet?” Alex questioned, her eyes narrowing on him. His presence in their kitchen answered that for her. 

Ethan’s fingers combed through his already tousled hair at the sound of her name. He shook his head instinctively. “I’m not sure she has anything to do with this.”

“She does. Ellie is why you’re here.” Alex smirked. The two men looked at her waiting for the answer to the question that neither of them seemed to know. Ethan and Hunt may have genius-level intellects but they were the dumbest smart people she knew. “L.A. is the new Amazon.”

“What?” Ethan scoffed. 

“Earlier this year, you slept with Ellie and instead of dealing with it, you spent two months on another continent avoiding and trying to get over her,” Alex pointed out. “Last weekend, you kissed her and you know it meant something because here you are–again, running away.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Ethan asserted. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“No? Then, say her name,” Alex challenged, crossing her arms. “You can’t because it matters–she matters–you don’t want to admit that the sound of Ellie’s name makes your heart beat faster and your pulse quicken. Those two syllables make you feel things you don’t want to admit that you feel.”

“I told you, nothing can happen between us,” he retorted, a pained expression crossing his face. “End of discussion.”

“You came to the wrong place to run away this time, Ethan Ramsey,” Alex taunted. He may not realize it yet, but she knew he was ready. “You’re not leaving here until you admit the truth to yourself.”

“And what truth is that?” He asked.

“That you’re in love with Ellie and the reason you came here is because you don’t want to fight it anymore. You could have gone anywhere. You came here. To the one place that you knew wouldn’t let you run away,” she explained excitedly. “You really do love her, don’t you?” 

“I didn’t say that,” he stammered. “I didn’t…” 

“Don’t look at me.” Hunt put the final preparations on the food. “You knew what you were walking into when you rang that doorbell. Some bells can’t be unrung.”

“You’re tired. I can see it in your eyes.” Alex poured Ethan a glass of scotch. “It’s time to admit the truth to yourself. Everyone else knows it. Why is it so hard for you to accept?”

Ethan sighed taking the glass and downing the scotch before he even had a chance to taste it. “You’re wrong.”

“We’ll see.” Alex filled his glass again. “Sit. Relax. Dinner first. We have the whole evening to help you see the truth.” 

*** Note: This was supposed to be longer, but I haven’t been feeling well all day. I’ll try to finish the second half and post it tomorrow or Monday***

☆  ☆   ☆   ☆   ☆

Perma tags: @lilyofchoices ; @simplymissjulia ; @mfackenthal ; @the-soot-sprite ; @virtuallytakenby ; @zeniamiii ; @kaavyaethanramsey; @choicesobsessed; @xjustin-ethansgirliex ; @caseyvalentineramsey; @trappedinfandoms

Thomas Tags: @alleksa16  ;    @flyawayboo    ;  @alj4890  ;  @twin-skltns   ;    @ab1901 ;   @riseandshinelittleblossom  ; @hopelessromantic1352  ;   @thearianam  ; @zodiacsign1 ; @curiouslittlefreak ; @sharrybh20 ; @awkwardambition ; @jodibo ;

Open Heart tags:  @ethandaddyramsey ; @mvalentine; @edith-eggs1 ; @burnsoslow; @rookie-ramsey ; @messrprongs ; 

[lonelyheartsclubhaze]

We Sold Our Souls to Instagram

September 2020 // Chapter 2

“No, I’m not going to pick you up.” I shook my head, visibly and audibly annoyed. “You know damn well that I’m not getting behind the wheel. I’m hanging up, sorry.”

Converting potential energy into kinetic, the iPhone X left my hand, skimming across the wave-front of my bed. My hands ruffled through my hair as I inhaled then sighed, absentmindedly channelling the virtues of cellular respiration.

Tired of this perpetual bullshit, my fingers slithered across the Ikea desk before me, eventually detecting the apple of my bedroom’s Eden: a lychee ice Puff Bar. My fingers honed in on the device, ensnaring it, raising it to my lips. A deep breath saved me from the agony of sobriety, the nicotine buzz lasting a moment. Then, it was lost.

Six soft, knuckled knocks rapped at the bedroom door. “It’s unlocked,” I shouted.

A creak later, the door swung open, revealing Adam. There was nobody else in the house anyway. With a global pandemic at large and wildfires blazing on deep into September, neither Ajay nor Cam had seen Dwight House since March. Just Adam and me.

“Yo, we out,” he said, pulling a reusable, black cloth mask under his chin. “Can’t see shit outside but we still drinking, dawg.” Ah, the charming vernacular of a Korean-American friend from the elite suburbs of the East Bay.

“It’s good. What’re we feeling today?” I had actually enjoyed the past six months with Adam—it had been a good bonding experience. Despite his rough tone around me and the rest of the guys, Adam was quite versatile in social settings, weaving between upper-class gentility at investment banking info sessions and middle-aged rednecks at gun ranges. With classical Berkeley-liberal ideologies and Wall Street Journal-reading, center-right-leaning, finance friends, Adam defied social realities.

Adam shrugged. “Could go for some Chimay. I’m feeling classy.”

“Not a bad idea at all, my friend,” I said. It had been awhile since I’d had a good beer like Chimay, and I was getting sick of Coors Banquets. “On the other hand, your timing just might be—a bad idea, I mean. Air looks cancerous outside.” Marmalade light cast by the wildfires of a fuming Earth engulfed Northern California, held in suspense by cool, Pacific layers of atmosphere. It was like we were on planet Arrakis, from Dune, or trapped in the world of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust.

“The air low-key is cancerous. AQI is pushing 180’s right now,” said Adam, raising his eyebrows.

“Looks like an N95-kinda day. I’ve got a spare, you know,” I said, gesturing to a pile of three or so N95 masks by the lamp on my desk.

Adam waved it off. “Eh, I’m good. That’s some puss shit. Let’s just run over to Crafts and Grapes or some shit, shouldn’t take long.”

I shrugged. “So be it.”

Tossing on a pair of five-and-a-half inch inseam Lululemon shorts, I joined Adam as he hopped downstairs.

“Got keys?” he asked once we reached the door.

“Yer, we out,” I said, shaking my keys out from my shorts’ pocket to lock the front door.

“Fuck,” griped Adam. “It’s actually hot as shit out here.” Smoky, red air obscured him from sight as he craned his neck to see me.

“Hence the shorts.”

Adam squinted his eyes, pursed his lips, and jutted his head back and forth, mocking me. “For sure. Forgot your MCAT-lovin’-ass could predict the future. But really though—it’s the middle of September, dude. This shit is wrong. It’s hot as balls and California is on fire and the sky is red and fools are straight-up dying off this COVID shit.”

“And you’re still an idiot,” I said, flashing a cheeky smile.

“Are you qualified to diagnose me as an idiot?”

“Maddie would say so.”

“Hence the pet names.”

“Precisely.”

“We gotta do something about this, bruh. This shit pains me to see,” declared Adam.

“Let’s start by drinking these brews. We’ll recycle the bottles after.”

We walked east on Dwight toward Telegraph, dodging cars as we skipped across the one way street. Adam was quieter than usual, for the most part, looking up from his iPhone 11 Pro Max periodically to comment on something he’d read in the news, or the glum weather. He wore a khaki short sleeve button-up, Kapital raw denim jeans with smiley face patchwork on the back left pocket, and a pair of slip-on Nike Janoski sneakers. The jeans were nice—quite expensive, from the looks of it—but looked baggy on him. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, all of his clothes  wore a bit loose on him, akin to a fiery adolescent who’d picked out hand-me-downs from an older sibling. Who that older sibling might’ve been, I’d never know—with his unwavering demeanor, Adam always seemed like the eldest in the room.

Banking right onto Telegraph, we bore the full brunt of the veiled sun, which, though hidden behind dense clouds of smoke, now revealed its penetrating UV rays. We ducked under corrugated foam polycarbonate sheets, which lined the rooftops of mom-and-pop Telegraph shops, fending off the sun’s cancerous radiation. The insanity of the world mingled with the smoky, copper air, making me delirious. I imagined I was Mel Gibson or Tom Hardy in Mad Max, feigning off flashbacks in the Wasteland. At the corner of Telegraph and Blake street, Adam pushed and held open the door to Crafts and Grapes. Nodding my head at him in small thanks, I entered, squinting my eyes as the light shifted from hazy red to bright white inside. It was a tiny store, with two aisles directly ahead lined with candy, nuts, and other inconsequential (unless you ate too many) snacks, followed by two refrigerators: one in the back, the other on the far right. Cool, wispy air emanated from the cold storage, contrasting with the late summer atmosphere only meters behind us. A bell rang as the door squeaked to a halt, prompting the middle-eastern cashier, directly to our right, to rise from his stool and greet us. We nodded back silently, all three of us clad in masks.

Per usual, Adam took the lead, striding toward the fridge directly back. He popped open one of the see-through doors with his left hand, mapping his way through its items with his right pointer finger. Finding my eyes, Adam shook his head, indicating a lack of Chimay.

“Blue moons?” I suggested. “Mango wheats?”

Adam screwed up his face. “Fuck that. Let’s go with Lags.”

“Sure, why not.”

Adam kneeled and looped his hand through the cardboard handle of a Lagunitas StereoHopic IPA six-pack. We walked over to the register where Adam made small talk with the cashier. Eventually, he tapped his iPhone 11 to an Ingenico payment terminal, finalizing our transaction. Drinks acquired.

The bell jingled as the door shut behind us once more. We hurried home, eager to crack open our drinks, intent on droning out the blistered yonder. Adam tried to explain his enthusiasm for hoppy beers while I pretended to listen. He was distracting me, though; we both knew I couldn’t care less.

Arriving home, my keys found their way to the door, and we found our ways to the couch. A tenor beep resounded through our living room as Adam’s iPhone connected to an old speaker via bluetooth. “Street Lights” by Kanye West filled the air, followed by carbon dioxide bubbles freed by an unlikely liberator—the bottle opener.

Let me know

Do I still got time to grow?

Things ain’t always set in stone

That be known let me know

I found myself back in the hand-me-down BMW 330i, with her, the white wire packed into the lightning port of my iPhone, transmitting cosine waves that replicated the robotic voice I was listening to in my living room.

“Stop!” she cried, thrusting herself back against beige, leather seats. She wanted me to press the brakes. I had to stop the car, right, stop the car. Where were the brakes?

She was beautiful, of course.

Dark, brown hair fell over eyes of the same color, guarded by double-lids that I wish she hadn’t paid for.

Hardly anyone would notice the difference, but I did, and it hurt to know that she didn’t love them.

I loved them, unconditionally, but she loved the brakes.

Needed to find them.

We’d shared a large bowl of Marafuku’s acclaimed Hakata Tonkotsu DX ramen. I’d let her eat most of it, sneaking my chopsticks in for bites at intervals.

“Pennsylvania?” I shook my head.

“What, you’ve never been?” She tilted hers. “You’ll love it. Come with me.”

“You’re crazy,” I said, smiling. “My MCAT summer is coming up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then I’ll help you study for it. Duh.”

“I’m sure Brandon would love that.”

“Will he? All the way from San Francisco?”

“He’ll make the trip.”

“Not if you do,” she said, melting my mind.

I was dizzy, sleepy, lost, a newborn. Vulnerable. And I couldn’t seem to find them.

I’m just not there in the streets

I’m just not there

Life’s just not fair

Life’s just not fair

Sonorant chimes reverberated in my ears as Adam clinked his glass bottle to mine. “Cheers,” he said with a nod.

“Cheers,” I echoed. Leaning my head back, I swallowed, allowing the cool liquid down my esophagus and into my gut.

“You good?” he prodded.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice cracking a little. I cleared my throat.

“Pretty hoppy, huh?”

I took another sip, licking my lips after. “Quite. I suppose we knew what we were getting ourselves into. You know, given the ‘StereoHopic’.”

“You right.”

“Yeah.”

“Yo,” said Adam. “On another note—might be going in on an addy deal with Grace if you’re tryna hop in.”

I scratched my head. While I wouldn’t have any major exams in the near future (although midterms for my biochem course [MCB 102, for my fellow pre-med students at Cal] were slated for October sixteenth), I certainly had errands that might be eased by a twenty milligram dose of extended-release Adderall. There’s nothing like a thorough room-cleaning session when you’re high on stimulant drugs.

The first time I ever tried Adderall must’ve been during my freshman year, back in 2017. Midterm season was approaching—come to think of it, that was around this time that year—and our generous friend, Grace, was kind enough to grant me a ten milligram pill of instant-release Adderall. Grace and I, along with Adam and perhaps Ajay, too, were partaking in a midnight study session at Moffitt Library, which was open twenty-four-seven—prior to the pandemic. I popped the pill, chased it down with a Javiva drink from Peet’s, and got to work.

Twenty minutes later I began to feel its effects as the amphetamine altered monoamines in my brain, releasing surplus dopamine into my many synaptic clefts. Optimism filled me to the brim and my vision bent inward. I saw nothing but the iPad in front of me, my mind enamored by golgi apparatuses and various protein structures. The stimulant saturated me with a profound appreciation for all thoughts that meandered into my head; a giddiness originated in my heart, spreading down my arms, my legs, and outward across my skull, contracting then expanding once more. It was artificial love.

Eventually, I was distracted. Grace’s dilated pupils stared into mine as she chattered away  about Lin-Manuel Mir-something and a hurricane in Puerto Rico. After a second or two, my attention snapped away from cell membranes, landing instead on her words. The words of a girl from Colorado with a soft spot for the snow. I’d met Grace via Adam during Orientation Week and she’d quickly become one of my favorite people.

Gingerbread specks stippled her face like a George Seurat painting, fractal constellations arising as my eyes outlined her cheekbones. Gaps between long, chocolate locks revealed sepia collarbones, lined with descendants of the freckles on her face. A white Nike Alex Morgan soccer jersey overlaid the loose sweatpants that hung from her hips, held up by drawstrings I almost hoped would fail, concealing proportions that emulated golden ratios. Stained, white, laceless Vans hugged unpainted toes that tapped together when she spoke. Lips that scorned the artificially enlarged mouths of Instagram influencers communicated messages I was only barely beginning to listen to. She was the love interest of a nineties’ coming-of-age motion picture. But she wasn’t mine.

You know, I thought Adam might’ve loved her, but it was hard to tell when he was cycling through hookups with three different girls at a time. Come to think of it, I didn’t know if Adam loved anyone. A talker, yes; a charmer, certainly; but a romantic, I really didn’t think so.

He spent a lot of his time with her, no doubt. And she cared for him—anyone could see it. But she knew as well as I did that his head wasn’t in it. He wasn’t looking for love. He wanted to graduate, make money—to be someone. Sex seemed like nothing more than a physical need to him. I don’t think anyone would’ve described Adam as an emotionally vulnerable guy, and I don’t think anyone thought that emotion was what he kept those girls around for.

But at the same time, anyone could’ve seen what I saw in the way he bounced when she was around. Anyone could’ve heard the way he spoke about her. She meant something to him. But when you asked him about it, he’d brush it off; she wasn’t his type, or he had commitment issues (jokingly—but hey, grain of truth in everything).

Maybe she was his distraction from ambition—his distraction from latex-wrapped, emotionally removed nights and Wall Street Journal mornings, just as she was my distraction from cell structures.

For a good hour-and-a-half, Grace entertained me with conversation regarding natural disasters across the West; Broadway musical comparisons between Hamilton and Sunday in the Park with George; and the latest updates on Cal’s women’s soccer team, of which she was a huge fan. The Adderall certainly kept me focused, although not necessarily on my coursework.

“Let me know,” said Adam, tipping the bottle into the corner of his mouth. “I’m boutta text her back.”

I looked up from my lap at Adam. Right, I thought. “Sure, I could be down. Why not. Think you can pick me up two? I have some errands to run.”

“Twenty milligram XR work?” he asked as he tapped along the screen of his iPhone.

“That’ll do.”

The room went quiet for twenty to twenty five seconds as I was confirmed as an accomplice in the drug deal.

“What’s she been up to?” I asked.

“Hm?” he noised, raising his eyebrows without looking up.

“Grace,” I said. “Haven’t seen her much.”

He shrugged. “Not much, I guess. Drinking a solid amount though, from what I’ve seen.”

“Makes three of us.”

“Yeah,” he said, feigning a smile. “What about yours?”

“Maddie?”

“Yeah.”

I took a deep breath—inhaling, holding to the count of four, exhaling. “Not much of a difference, to be honest.”

“It’s not her fault, you know.”

“I know,” I breathed.

“Then talk to her.”

“It’s not like that,” I mumbled.

Adam paused.

I stared at my feet. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

He squinted. “The fuck you sorry for?”

“You know.��

He waved his hand aside, brushing it off. “I’m not tripping. Talk to her. Before I do it myself.”

I forced a smile. “Maybe it’s better off that way.”

“Here,” he said, handing me a two-foot-tall bong and lighter from under the coffee table. “Take it.”

Couldn’t stay away. My fingers gripped the paraphernalia as he withdrew. My heart quickened as the impending drug interaction approached. When it reached my lips, I lit, then inhaled, holding to the count of four, and then some. Blurry feelings rushed my mind as states of sufferance gave way to sedated nebulas, teaching me forgetfulness.

[staygoldponebone]

Friday Night With the Curtis Boys

Pairing: n/a

Request by: anonymous

Prompt: "This tastes horrible."

Summary: just an average night at the Curtis residence.

As soon as Darry came through the front door, he threw his keys down and kicked his shoes off. He was tired and hungry. But instead of making himself something to eat or grabbing a blanket, Darry just turned the television on. The Beverly Hillbillies appeared on screen and Darry smiled in delight.

While Darry sat in the living room, Pony was sprawled out on his bed. His nose was stuck in a book and his brow rested in a crinkle. His foot mocked a tapping against the air around him as he absent-mindedly bit the inside of his cheek. He was so caught up in his book that he didn't notice the time until the light that spilled into the window had faded to a dimly lit sun. He turned to his clock and pulled himself up at the sight of the numbers.

Soda's evening wasn't even spent at home. Soda was sitting at the DX, screwing around with his co-workers. They were closing in a few minutes so they spent that time talking and making fun of each other.

"Man, Tony, you sure are greasy!" Soda exclaims, elbowing the boy who grabbed a bag of chips off the shelf.

"At least I ain't as greasy as Steve!" Tony laughed, throwing a five on the counter. "Evie's so clingy 'cause if she ain't, you slide outta grip."

Steve stood with his hands on his hips. "Well, I may be greasy, but at least I got hair. Right, Jimmy?"

A petite boy stood behind the register, counting the money. He shook his head, adjusting the ball cap that sat upon it. "What'd I do to you, Randle?"

The other boys laughed before Jimmy pointed out the time.

Soda clocked out and headed home. When he got there, all he could hear was bickering between his brothers.

"I don't wanna make dinner!" Pony was exclaiming.

"Well, it's your turn!" Darry replied.

"Well, I have to do homework!"

"Ponyboy Michael!"

"What?!"

"Why did you wait 'til now to do it?!"

Soda sighed at the scene, then headed for the kitchen. "I got it!" He calls.

His siblings calmed down for a bit, subtle glares being exchanged between them.

Soda goes over to the pots on the stoves, then through the cabinets to see what they have. When he spotted the macaroni noodles, he grinned. But soon his grin twisted into a look of confusion. "Where's the cheese for the macaroni?" He asks.

"Two-Bit ate it for breakfast." Pony states.

"Just the cheese?"

Pony shrugs. "I guess."

"Ok..." Soda took the box of noodles to the counter. He began boiling water on the stove and looking for something to go with it.

He went back through the cabinet, finding a jar of spaghetti sauce. He took it out along with a can of green beans.

While Soda made dinner, Ponyboy sat alone at the kitchen table, doing math homework. Or so Darry and Soda thought. He was actually staring down at his pencil, wondering why Angela was glaring at him all day today for no reason. Did I say something wrong? He thought.

He hated thinking that he did something to her. I tried to be nice. He thought. I smiled at her in geography and she flipped me off.

Maybe he could ask Curly tomorrow. Curly would probably just-

"Ponyboy, I thought you were doing homework..." Darry said, arms crossed.

"I am." Pony replied, motioning to his math book.

"Your paper's blank and you've been staring at it for a while now." 

"I'm just tired..."

"Well, if you wouldn't wait so long to do your homework, then maybe...." His voice trailed off as he went into the living room.

The Beverly Hillbillies wasn't on anymore and Darry decided to work on the bills, that were stacked up by his calculator and notebook. He was squinting down at the numbers in front of him, reaching into the breast pocket of his shirt for his reading glasses.

Once he could see, Darry sighed at the amounts he saw. And being so consumed by bills, he didn't even see Soda standing beside him.

"Hey, Dar?" Soda mumbled.

"What's up, little buddy?" Darry replied, turning to his kid brother.

"Can you open this for me?"

Darry took the jar of spaghetti sauce from him and unscrewed the lid with ease.

While that happened, Soda looked over at the scribbles in Darry's book. "I'll take water and groceries this month." He offered.

"Huh?" Soda motioned down at the notebook and Darry smiled. "Oh. Thanks."

Soda smiled back, taking his jar. "And thank you."

After a few more minutes of the three Curtis boys doing their own work, Soda announced that dinner was ready. The three met at the table with plates stacked high with macaroni. Darry took the first bite of food, then Pony, then Soda. Soda was the first to talk.

"This tastes horrible." He states.

The two others looked at him in confusion. "It tastes like regular spaghetti..." Darry states.

"But it tastes....boring."

"Oh!" Pony replied. "I get it."

"Yeah. It's just so....disappointing."

Darry looked between his two brothers. "I don't understand. It tastes fine."

"There's no color, though, so it tastes wrong." Soda explains.

"How many times do I have to say this? Coloring doesn't have a flavor."

"Yes, it does!"

Pony chimes in. "Purple tastes like, oh, I don't know..."

"Like meatballs!" Soda says, his hands smacking the table.

"Yeah!" Pony agreed.

Darry furrowed his brow. "No. It tastes like nothing. Colors don't have flavor."

"That's a lie. Ever eaten gummy bears?"

Darry sighed with a light-hearted laugh. "You got me there."

~ ~ ~ ~

@no-good-hoodies @sodapopwinston98 @emmyrosee @tlmarco @wyrmythedragon @mocurlyshepard @ponyboyvhs @starryrevelations @comeheredarlingg @liam-alexander-winston @salladwinston @unique05sstuff @cat-the-great @ponydoyourhomework @golden-sun-rises @darrycurtisappreciation @willowlikesdallaswinston @leeb10111 @dallaswinstonsgirl724 @des-the-mess @s0uthside-princess @the80sgold @steveandsoda @intergalactic-gabriel @nickhoffert15 @anxiety-at-the-classroom (sorry if you didn't wanna be tagged. I'm just so proud of myself for getting something done!! Also I found my old taglist so yay!!)

[andhumanslovedstories]

i don't think i have capital a anxiety and i don't think i actually qualify for adhd but like .. the things you talk about, thank you for talking about them. it makes me feel less alone. i also think about like, the inevitability of death, even when i don't want to, and it sometimes feels like every day. and i also guilt over not/replying to things and take ages to take a shower sometimes. i'm sorry you have to deal with those things, but thank you for sharing your experience with them

honestly people replying to stuff I write about to say “I feel that way too” is therapeutic for me, so thank you for saying so. It’s hard striking a balance between being open and being way too intimate, but it’s genuinely amazing to me how if you talk about mental health, you’ll find so many people who are thinking the same things and also think you’re alone. 

and not to dx you over one ask, but you do sound a lot like me. I never understood questions on depression surveys that were like “do you think about bad things all the time, do you think about death all the time” because I was like, of course! Everyone does! Even when you’re happy, you’re aware of death! [SUICIDE IDEATION TALK HERE] I would always think stuff like, “Obviously I’d never kill myself. And I’ll ask myself a couple times every day if I am thinking about killing myself so I can confirm I’m not.” Or I’d think of ways to kill myself, but because they’d be so unrealistic, I wouldn’t think that they counted. Like basically fantasizing that there’d be a burning building and I’d have to run in to save twelve babies and they’d all survive but I wouldn’t. I’d think about that a lot, but never considered that to be anything worrisome. 

And then I started therapy and meds and a bunch of other coping methods, and I realized after a few years, oh, wait. There are times when I don’t think about death all the time and I don’t think about tasks for hours before I get to do them. Sometimes I have high energy and I’m excited about the future. Bad things still happen, but they don’t destroy me. Except when they do because this shit is cyclical, and to tell you the truth, I had an extremely bad relapse a few months ago where everything seemed hopeless and like this was the sadness forever. Obviously I didn’t have depression or anxiety or adhd or anything like that: I was just a bad person. Or worse, I did have those things but they were never going to get better. 

Then they got better. School ended and I started working again which got me out of the house. I did art with a lot of exuberance. When I wanted to hurt myself, I knitted instead. And today I feel good! I don’t feel guilty or ashamed or too tired to do basic hygiene. I feel happy. I feel calm. I’m playing DnD with a bunch of strangers tonight, and I’m able to look forward to it. I’m nervous, but not anxious. (Nerves can be kinda fun. Anxiety never is. Nerves make sense. Anxiety creates its own logic. Took me a while to figure out the difference.) 

Which is all just to say that when I’m at my worst, I don’t think I’m mentally ill at all. I think that other people definitely are, that there’s people out there who are Valid, and I’m just...sad. And I just need to stop being sad. And that’s not helpful and turns your emotions into yet another thing to feel bad about. 

I’m not saying to have anything diagnosable, but talk to people! Say your thoughts aloud to someone you trust or to a professional and see how they sound. And even if you don’t end up getting a formal dx or deciding that you need one, the coping methods of different Brain Stuff conditions can be useful anyway. I’m not autistic, but listening to autistic people talk about their experiences and what helps them has helped me with a bunch of my symptoms and personality quirks. 

this is super long, but I’ll end it with something that @tellytubs wrote to me ages ago before I started therapy, and I wasn’t sure if I even qualified for it (like, I wasn’t sad enough or whatever) was. She reached out and told me that it doesn’t matter if the same things would upset another person. If they upset you, that’s all the criteria you need to seek help. It really helped me in the moment accept that I “deserved” therapy, and it’s something I still remind myself when I feel like I should be “fixed” by now. 

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 50a (NSFW)

Cowritten with @disastrousintention.

-x-

With Charlie signed off work and Duffy rushing around trying to get everything ready most of December passed by in a flash and suddenly it was Christmas Eve.

“I really wish you’d slow down.” Charlie told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

"I will after today. I've got two whole days at home." She smiled.

“That’s good. I can give you your Christmas present tomorrow night when the children are in bed.”

"Now that is something to look forward to!" She giggled.

He continued to kiss her neck, “It’s been too long...”

"Mmm..." She sighed.

“Since we spent proper time together, just talking.”

"Or anything else for that matter!"

“That’s true.” He smiled sadly, “Maybe we can do both tomorrow?”

She turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm all..." She began but was interrupted when her phone rang.

“You were saying?” He smiled and kissed her lips.

"Hold that thought!" She giggled as she wriggled free and checked her phone, keeping it turned away from him. "I've got to go out." She added.

“Go out? Where?”

"I... Um... Left something important at work. I won't be long!"

“Alright gorgeous. Be safe. Love you.” He kissed her cheek.

"I'll be fine. You checked the fog lights yesterday remember."

“Still be careful though.” He replied.

"I promise!" She smiled.

In the end she was out for almost three hours. She'd sent Charlie a message after an hour or so explaining 'Stuck in traffic on the ring road! Dx'

“Alright hunny xx’

Finally Duffy crept through the front door. Spotting Emily she whispered "Where's your dad?"

“In the kitchen.” She whispered back.

"OK, keep him in there whilst I take this upstairs." Duffy smiled, holding a suitcase.

“Why you got a suitcase?” Emily asked quietly.

"You'll see!" Her mum replied, disappearing upstairs.

Emily frowned, sucked her thumb and returned to the tv.

After taking the suitcase upstairs Duffy returned once more to her car before coming back inside. "Charlie? Can you come help me with something in the hallway?" She called out.

“Of course I can.” He replied and entered the hall.

"Hi dad!"

“Louis?”

"Merry Christmas!" He smiled as he ran towards his dad.

Charlie smiled brightly as he picked up Louis and held him tightly. “Merry Christmas son!” His eyes became watery.

"Its amazing who you bump into in the fog!" Duffy chuckled.

He caught Duffy’s gaze and mouthed “Thank you” before kissing the top of Louis’ head.

"We owe Josh several pints!" She giggled.

“Josh?” He smiled.

"Who do you think took two transatlantic flights in the space of a day?"

“I will buy him pints for the next three years!”

"I thought you might notice if I went."

“Of course I would.”

"So I had to enlist help. It was only after I sent you a message saying I was on the ring road that I realised I might have given myself away."

“I didn’t even notice.” He laughed gently.

"Because the ring road is nowhere near the hospital. But I didn't want you worrying where I was."

“It’s ok. I try not to worry so much.” He smiled.

"I know you can't help it though." She smiled.

“No I can’t.” He kissed Louis and put him back on the floor. “I think your siblings have missed you and want to play with you.”

Louis grinned and ran into the lounge where he could hear the TV.

He stood up and looked at Duffy, “Thank you.”

"Sorry I kept secrets and lied. I just wasn't sure I'd be able to pull it off."

“It’s fine.” He smiled and touched her cheek, “I don’t mind.”

"Just don't ask me what I had to do in order to make it happen."

“What did you have to do?” He asked.

"I told you not to ask." She chided him playfully.

“If you tell me not to ask, I’ll ask.” He replied with a giggle.

"I had to admit defeat." She whispered.

“Admit defeat?”

"To Baz."

“She can win this. But you said it yourself, the truth will come out in the end.”

"It wasn't just about Louis..."

“Go on?” He frowned.

"Do I have to say it all again?" She sighed.

“Tell me everything? Please?” He gestured her into the kitchen.

She sighed as she followed him.

He closed the door slightly, “What happened?”

"We had an interesting conversation."

“About?” He stroked her cheek.

"Us."

“Let me guess, she’s still throwing her toys out the pram about us.”

"Sort of." Duffy sighed as she sat down at the table.

He sat beside her, “Go on?” He encouraged gently.

"She said that the only way that we could have Louis for Christmas was if I admitted that I was a cheap, filthy, bastard, lying whore." She admitted quietly, her gaze focused on the surface of the table.

He moved to crouch in front of her. “But you’re not ANY of those things.” He placed his hands either side of her cheeks, “You’re not! You hear me?”

"I did what I had to do." She sighed.

“Look at me?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his.

“You are not a dirty, cheap, lying whore.” He smiled sadly, “You are my beautiful wife, my best friend and you are gorgeous inside and out.”

"I gave her what she wanted so you could have what you needed. That's all that matters."

“You did that for me? For us?” He kissed her tenderly.

"It was worth it to see you smile."

“I love you.” He placed his hand on her stomach.

"Enough now about how Louis got here, let's just enjoy him while he's with us."

“Thank you.” He smiled.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to pull out the bag for next Christmas..!" She giggled.

“Maybe another baby?” He said with a grin.

"I can't entirely tell if you're joking or not..!" She remarked, her eyebrow raised.

“What would you say if I wasn’t joking?”

She blinked, a look of utter bewilderment on her face.

“Can we discuss it? In a few months?”

"OK." She shook her head with a smile. "There's never a dull moment with you is there?"

“Erm, no.” He replied with a chuckle.

"Do we still have much more wrapping left to do for tomorrow?"

“No all done. Finished it whilst you were out.”

"How did you manage that?" She asked impressed.

“Easy.” He smiled.

"So long as you didn't go snooping for your present!"

Charlie grinned, “Of course not!”

"Good boy!" She giggled playfully, tapping the tip of his nose.

“I’m always a good boy. Especially in the bedroom department.”

"Might I be able to convince you to give me that Christmas treat you promised me a little earlier than planned?"

“Hmm, if you’re a good girl?”

"I thought you preferred me when I'm naughty?" She pouted playfully.

“Oh, oh I do.” He groaned softly.

Duffy stood up from the table and wrapped her arms around Charlie's neck. She lent forward to kiss him when the door burst open.

“Dad? Mum?” It was Tilly.

"You ok princess?" Duffy asked, stepping out of Charlie's embrace.

“Hug?” She asked holding her arms above her head.

Duffy crouched down to give her daughter a hug.

“Bath? Bed?” Tilly asked and yawned, “Santa ere tomorrow?”

"Of course. And the birthday fairy!" Duffy smiled as she grasped the table edge to stand back up with Tilly in her arms.

“I forgot.” She giggled softly and rested her head against her mum’s shoulder.

"You're going to be a big five year old!" Duffy smiled, kissing her daughter's forehead after twisting the little girl onto her hip.

“Five! Big girl.” She whispered sleepily.

Duffy walked through to the lounge where Lottie spotted her sister. "Me up too!"

“How about daddy take you upstairs, Lottie?” Charlie suggested.

"No mummy!" She stamped her foot.

“Mummy can’t carry you, she’s got a baby in her belly.” He crouched down in front of Lottie.

"She's carrying Tilly!"

“Because Tilly asked first. How about we stay down here and after mummy has taken Tilly to bed, she’ll come down and take you up to bed too?”

Lottie nodded.

"And me too?" Emily piped up from the sofa.

“And you too, Em, ok?” He smiled and kissed Lottie’s forehead and Emily’s. He sat down on the floor beside Louis.

Duffy left to head upstairs with Tilly who was practically asleep on her shoulder.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” He asked all four children.

[fangirl-imagines]

Should Have Known Part 4

Part 1 ,  Part 2 , Part 3

Prompt: Imagine getting pregnant with Dallas Winston’s baby but he doesn’t want it

Dallas knew he'd screwed up as soon as he walked back into your room.

You were sitting up in your hospital bed staring at the scratchy, stark white sheets, only barley looking at him when he appeared out of the hall.

Dallas sighed, running his hand over his face before crossing his arms and leaning againt the doorway. "I talked to your brothers. Darry's picking up Soda and Pony. They'll be here soon."

You nodded as your body tensed and you bit your lip.

Dallas took a step forward then stopped. For once he wasn't sure what he should be doing. His hands itched to be doing something. To step into the room and help you, to get a nurse, to call Darry and tell him to hurry the hell up, to run out and not stop until he made it back to New York. But instead he planted his feet against the ground to keep himself from shaking and stepped into the room, standing beside the bed he rubbed his hand along your back while your groaned and clutched the bed rail.

After a few minutes when your hands released the bed rail and your breathing evened out he moved to the chair next to you and pulling out a cigarette.

You just stare at him as he flips open his lighter and lights his cigarette.

"Why did you tell the nurse you were the father?" 

Dallas rolls his eyes a little and shrugs. "I am aint I?" He asked taking a long drag of his lit cigarette.

"I thought you said you didn't want anything to do with the baby? Or me for that matter."

"I know what I said alright! I just..."

"Just what?!" You asked as he took another puff of his cancer stick. "For the love of God would you put that out!"

He took another long, slow drag before putting it out against his shoe. "Alright, alright."

You were quiet for a second before speaking up "Look Dal, I appreciate you driving me to the hospital but we can't do this. You can't just disappear for months then show back up when you feel like it." You tried to meet his eyes but Dallas was too enthroled with his lighter to look at you. You knew him well enough you'd have been able to see the guilt in his eyes. "I won't let you do that to me and I certainly won't let you do that to my daughter."

Dallas' head shot up, "Its a girl?"

You sat up a little straighter, "That's what doctor said. I named her Annie."

"After your mom?"

"Ya."

"Look kid its not that I want to be that guy who shows up in the kids life every couple of months. My old man was like that and believe me I don't want that. I just had a lot of thinking to do the last couple of months."

"Oh ya?" You asked wincing and shifting in the bed. "And what did you come up with during all that thinking?"

Dallas ran his hands through his hair and opened his mouth but was cut off.

"Y/N!" Sodapop yelled dashing into the room past Dallas and straight to your side. He was still wearing his DX shirt and cap with a little grease smearing his hands.

Dallas sighed and sunk down into his chair.

"How you doin baby girl? I'm sorry we left you home alone. Is the baby okay? Are you okay?" Sodapop rambeled, his hand resting on yoir stomach over your hospital gown.

"We're fine Soda. We still have a few hours before anything-" you took a deep breath through another wave of pain, "happens."

"No baby yet?" Ponyboy asked appearing in the door, Darry behind him.

You shook your head still riding out the pain. "Not yet."

Darry noticed the dissapointed look on Ponyboy's face and laughed, claping him on the shoulder. Walking into the room his eyes found Dallas in the chair by your bed.

"Dal," he greeted awkwardly with a nod of his head. Dallas noded in acknowledgment, casting a questioning look towards you. You shook your head. They didn't know.

Well that was one of the first things Dallas planed on changing.

Darry stepped forward and Dallas rose to shake his outstretched hand. “Thanks for taking care of her for us.” Darry spoke with an uncertain cenceritry.

“No sweat.” Dallas threw back casually even though you could see by his shoving his hands deep into his pockets and slightly hunched posture that he was nervous. Little ticks you’d picked up on over the years spent observing him. Years where you’d admired him and thought you’d seen the real him under his icy shell. He was gonna do something stupid.

“Look Darry, theres something you oughta know.”

“Dally, please not now!” You begged earning worried glances from Sodapop who was looking between you and Dallas with worry. You brushed him off as he tried to run his hand over your hair soothingly but didn’t fight when he gripped your hand in his.

“Then when Y/N? What whan the kids ten?”

“Baby Curtis here yet?” Steve asked suddenly popping into the doorway of your room matching Sodapop perfectly in his own grease stained DX shirt sans hat.

“No not yet, Steve.” Soda answered him from your bed, squeezing your hand reassuringly, casting his best buddy a smile.

“Well dang.”

“No baby yet huh?” Two Bit asked suddenly appearing next to Steve with Johnny trailing behind him. Steve shook his head. Johnny’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Dallas standing in the room beside Darry. His eyes cast over them then flickered to you. When you caught his eye his gaze fell on the floor.

He knew.

Dallas had to have told him. You couldn’t believe Johnny Cakes had known and somehow not told you. He was notoriously bad at keeping things from you but somehow he had kept his own knowledge from you for months.

“Hey, Dal. How’ve you been man?” Steve broke the tension in the room or maybe just added to it addressing Dallas. You weren’t the only one who hadn’t seen him in months.

“I’ve been around.” Dallas replied only taking his gaze off Darry for a second to look around the room. He caught Johnny’s questioning gaze and winked. “I’ve had to get some thinking done.”

“Ya, we heard you got locked up a couple of months ago.”

“Ya, that was before. But things are gonna be different now. I’m not getting locked up again. I got more important things to worry about now.”

“Dallas.” You warned.

“Dallas Winston,” Darry took a deep breath, “if you’re trying to say what I think you’re about to say, then you and me better step out in the hall. Because I’ve got a lot I need to say to you.”

“Then maybe we should.”

“I knew it.” Soda muttered beside you as you began to cry and another, much more painful contraction cut through you making you cry out.

“You son of a bitch.” Darry bit out, “How the hell could you do this to her then run away like a coward.”

You yelled again gripping Soda's hand in a vice like grip.

“I'll go get a nurse!” Pony called running from the room, taking his chance to escape.

Everyone else stood there unsure what to do.

“I was wrong Darry but I'm not running away any more. I'm gonna be here alright.”

Darry shook his head. “I don't believe you.”

Everyone was silent as your contraction began to pass and Soda helped you lay back against the pillows. When you were settled he turned to the rest of the gang, “Hey! Now is not the time. Darry, Dallas you take it outside. The rest of you go and make sure they don't kill each other! Y/N and the baby don't need this right now so all of you get out until she asks for you to come back!”

Dallas looked like he might argue but the tears in your eyes told him it was a bad idea. Quietly they all filled out into the hallway. Leaving you to cry your pain filled sobbs into your brother's shoulder.

@lilo-efuru @wolfshifter4life @chevrongirl2022

[1800-fandoms]

The Reckless Tale of the East Side pt.2

Pt.1 Pt.2

Tags: @celebsimagines

I was watching from the window of the kitchen as a police car rolled up. Soda was at the table finishing his homework. Darry was in the shower and Ponyboy was in the family room with Dally and Johnny.  I heard a knock at the door as the shower shut off.  I thought it was going to be a policeman bringing Two-Bit but it wasn't. Three policemen stood at my door with solemn looks on their face. They told me they were looking for Darry and I welcomed them inside as they waited. The gang gathered in the kitchen as Darry spoke with the policemen. I hit the floor…. My parents are dead.

I woke up with a scream, tears were running down my face. Within seconds I heard the creaky door whip open and the comfort of Darry’s arms around my chest. He tightly held me as I thrashed and kicked, “THEY CAN’T BE DEAD!” I screamed over and over again. There was nothing Darry could do other than attempt to quiet me to avoid waking my brothers.

“Sh,” he spoke lightly squeezing me tighter to his chest. “baby, you need to snap out of it.” Soda and Pony ran into the room slamming into the door with wide eyes. This wasn’t the first night this had happened and I pray every night for it to be the last. But, to no success and no sign of a way to calm the nightmare, this was life. If it wasn’t me, it was Pony but, when it comes down to it though I’m living in hell I’d rather be the one to brace it than my brothers.

“I-I'm sorry g-guys..” I whispered, my voice hoarse from the screaming.

“It's okay baby girl, everything is okay” Darry whispered as he looked up at my brothers. “She will be fine, get back in bed.”

“Em-” Pony started, I gazed up at him forcing a smile. He was our worrier and as he was he baby the important thing was for us to  This had become a routine since mom and dad died in the car accident almost a year ago. Darry is the only one who can calm me down out of my brothers, but Dally has become accustomed to waking me from my nightmares as well. Dally isn't as bad as everyone thinks, he just doesn't understand love. Though all excuses aside without us, he’d be  hood. All the boys treat me like their little sister and are all extremely protective of me.

Darry slowly laid back still clutching on to me, I nuzzled my face into his chest.

He smells like dad...

I listened to the sounds of Darry’s slowing breath as he fell back to sleep for the last few moments before sunrise, his chest rising and falling under my head. The sounds of shower turning on and then back off 15 minutes later and the soft patter of  Soda’s feet as he walked back into his room. I heard the grumbles of Pony as he dragged himself into the bathroom, accompanied by his careless, tired stomps. Then came Darry’s sudden and stiff movements as he woke up from his cat nap.

“I’d love to stay with you longer, but I have to get to my job.” He slowly slid out of the bed and stood on the side, “how are you feelin’ now kiddo?” I slowly pushed myself up, my head still spinning as if my body had gone into shock, again.

“Numb,” I whispered.

“Are you going to try to go to school?” I shook my head, I wasn’t in the right mindset. I’ve had the dream of the day mom and day died for months. Every time I do something bad happens. The last time I had the dream was the day before Johnny and I got beat up by the Socs. Darry nodded understandingly, he placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before walking into the kitchen.

I took my time to regain my composure before following. The whole gang sat around the table, their usual banter almost nonexistent as I slowly made my way toward the kitchen. I stopped hearing Darry’s stern voice controlling the room. “Dal, I need you to stay here,”

“Nah Dar, I got business to attend to.”

“And that business is here Dallas, Emmie had the dream again and someone needs to stay with her.”

“Dar-” silence I knew that meant the dad glare had come into play, guess Dallas is my babysitter for the day. I chose this moment to make my entrance. Various “hey Em” and “morning Em” came from the chatty boys. I made my rounds with hugs to everyone except for Dallas and Soda’s girl Sandy - we aint on the greatest of terms. We just aint the gettin along type.  She came by in the mornings every so often, only speakin to Soda and here and there to my brothers..I went over to the stove to grab some breakfast all that was left was a single blue pancake. I looked back to the table and everyone held a full plate including Sandy - who was just picking at her plate and moving it around with her fork to avoid the conversations at hand. I placed the ceramic plate back on the shelf and turned to the food cabinet. I guess I am stuck with cereal this morning. I sat down in between Dally and Two-bits and tuned out the latest gossip from the DX

“Was anyone on the couch last night?” I whispered to Two-bits. He nodded still listening to Steve’s rambling about a Soc girl that wore a shirt that showed “everything and I mean everything.”

“I was.” I looked at him with guilt and he gave me a small smile.

“I'm sorry Two” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I leaned against his chest as I ate my cereal.

“No worries Emmy-Lee” he whispered before placing a kiss on my head, despite his never ending immaturity, he was the one to turn to in tough situations.

“Are you going out tonight, Soda?” I asked through a mouthful of cereal, just to piss off Sandy who scowled at me.

“Yeah, Stevie and I are taking Sandy and Evie to the Dingo tonight. It’s Rocks Your Socks Off Night.”

“And I got Johnny and Pony tonight,” Dally pitched in “We are going to the drive-in, Em.” Two pushed on my shoulder telling me to lean forward allowing him to grab a beer from the fridge.

“What to do something dangerous?”

“Nah, watch a movie, pick up a broad or two” He smirked and wink high-fiving Two-Bits. I glared at both of them with disgust.

“ I think i’ll stay here, Dal, I have a ton of homework to get done”

“alright kiddo,” Darry started placing his hand on my back. “You need to rest baby, only out for emergencies. I left the number for my work site-”

“Darry I’m gonna be fine,” 

“I know baby I’m just nervous, maybe I outta stay how.” 

“Go!” I laughed “I’m fine” Dar paused before nodding and kissing my head. He gathered his stuff and headed to work. 

“I’ll be around later Em,” Two started, “Let’s go Pony, Steve”

“See ya Two, and uh, maybe actually go to class. You know that's what school is for.”

“Don't poke fun Emmy-Lee”

Everyone chimed in with goodbyes and soon everyone else followed leaving me with my thoughts and Dally.

“You know you don’t have to stay here” I flicked on the tv and settled in Darry’s recliner.

“I know that, I have no rules” He stood in the doorway, with slouching posture and a hand above his head attempting to appear tuff. He slowly placed a weed in his mouth and attempted to light it.

“Actually you have one.” I replied standing up from the comfort of the old recliner and walked toward the bleach blonde boy.

“ oh yeah?” I nodded and removed the unlight ciggie from his mouth.

“Don’t smoke in my house.”  I threw it on the floor and returned back to the chair.

“You know what, I don’t have to stay here.”

“and , no one’s stopping you Dally-boy.” I heard the heavy stomp of his work boots and the loud smack of our soon to be broken screen door.

[wallas-dinston]

Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I backed up, frightened, shaking my head.

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

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

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

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

“Darry?” a familiar voice asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[aut-of-space]

What are your opinions on Pro VS Self DX? And are you pro or self? (I'm personally pro but newly diagnosed )

Sorry that my reply took so long. I've been rather busy in the last few months and wasn't really able to use Tumblr. So, I'm REALLY pro self-dx. As someone who's part of the mental health community from both sides, I cannot imagine being against it.I'll now further elaborate on some of the reasons why I believe in self-dx. As a neurodivergent individual, studying psychology and working with therapists was often a wild ride. Many people in the mental health field are prejudiced against some mental conditions and don't even know the basics about others. Autism, for example, is actually a major topic in the field of developmental psychology. However, besides the autistic woman who made courses on autism (which I of course took at uni lol), not a single one of them knows anything useful. A few days ago, a friend of mine messaged me only to tell me that a professor made a presentation about autism and didn't even know what stimming even was. She had to explain that. And the professor continued talking about how much happier autistic people would be after completing ABA. I myself was officially diagnosed at eighteen. After I got checked as a child for AD(H)D and went to a therapist at sixteen because of depression, suicidal tendencies and an eating disorder. Yet no one besides my last therapist discovered that I'm autistic because all of those people still believed that autism is only something amab people can have. So, basically, my conclusion... if official diagnosis was actually good and efficient, then I'd advice against self-dx because there are a few mental conditions which can cause symptoms and behaviours similar to ASD. However, getting diagnosed is still shit. Autistic individuals are very likely to be misdiagnosed with BPD for example, if they even get diagnosed at all. (My therapist at age sixteen for example.told me that I was still "too fat" to have an eating disorder and that my struggles with other people were caused by me being a socially inept asshole who rightfully hates themselves. Let that sink in. People like this still practice nowadays). Self-dx is hard to do. Because, as mentioned above, there are similar symproms in other conditions. But lastly, I firmly believe that people know themselves better than anyone else does. This goes especially for autistic individuals - we often can't communicate adequately with our environment, thus we can't adequately show others who don't understand our behaviour and difficulties who we actually are. Additionally, in order to get an official diagnosis, we have to push through a lot of ableism in the medical community. And due to social difficulties, you need to know what to say and how to say it during your assessment. You need to know your own autistic traits in order to answer appropriately. And, last but not least... there is no reason to be against self-dx solely for the reason that a self-dx could be wrong because professionals make wrong diagnosis ALL THE TIME.

[imagine-your-heroes]

Omg first Aizawa request!! i love this guy thanks for the request!! and the compliment huehuhe everyone loves compliments B) And yes I know all about the horrors of periods DX

When Aizawa Shota got back home from work, he was more than surprised to see you, his girlfriend still curled up in bed. He grinned, “Someone’s been sleeping the day away,” he teased, but instead of a proper reply he only got a groan. “[___]?”

“Ugh, I don’t feel well,” you mumbled as you woke up. Your boyfriend - half worried, half convinced you were faking it - walked up to the bed and pulled the covers off of you. And saw the red stain on the bedsheets beneath you.

Aizawa understood immediately that you were on your period, and at once the worry alleviated. “Come on, it can’t be that bad--” You threw a pillow at his head before he could even finish the sentence.

“What the hell do you know? You don’t get to tell me what hurts and what doesn’t. Asshole.”

Shota’s eyes widened at your burst of anger, but that also made him rethink things. You had a point.  He took another look at you, and saw the fatigue and pain in your eyes, and really did reconsider his words. You were still curled up in fetal position, but when you noticed the blood stain on the sheets you shot up, groaning. “S-Sorry, I’ll go clean that up-”

“It’s fine,” Shota reassured you, “You go take a shower, I’ll take care of this. Okay?”

He was surprisingly unaffected by the blood, unlike most men would be, but as a hero, Aizawa kind of had to know how to wash off blood, so it was fine. You thanked him and went to take that shower, meanwhile your lover stripped the bed of the bedsheets and went to wash those in a separate bathroom.

Once he was done, he called Recovery Girl:

“You have to come over and treat [___].” “What happened?” “It’s, uh, that time of the month.” Recovery Girl laughed, “I’m afraid I can’t do anything about that.” “But she’s in so much pain, surely this isn’t normal?” She convinced him that pain was, sadly, normal, and that he just had to do his best to help you through this. Aizawa was rather displeased at Recovery Girl’s unhelpfulness, but he hung up anyway.

While Shota lacked experience in helping others through their periods, he knew what to do, theoretically. When you came out of the shower, finally out of your pajamas, he had a hot water bottle ready, along with a decent amount of chocolate. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“My uterus hates me.”

“We’ll just relax today, then. Do you want to watch a movie?” Your lover suggested. That did sound tempting.

He let you choose whatever movie you wanted to see, and once you began to settle down, he offered you his sleeping bag. “It’ll keep you warm,” he insisted, and handed you the hot water bottle to lay on your tummy. Along with the chocolate, you couldn’t help but think Shota was the most perfect person in the world to help you through this painful time-! So wonderful, so thoughtful! What did you ever do to deserve him?

“H-Hey wait, don’t start crying now, [___]!”

Well. He’d get used to these mood swings soon enough.