#their dad knew what soda was and died before they could tell him?

[damthosefandoms]

sodapop curtis you will never escape the demigod allegations. pony saying he looks like a greek god. adhd. dyslexia. the works.

[mikeystrawberry]

Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!

I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!

Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!

This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!

(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)

I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.

The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:

Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.

Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.

Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!

Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.

Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.

As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.

In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.

That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

what if

Darry was trying to sleep. It had been a long ass day and he needed to get up early in the morning. The windows were open, blowing a warm breeze over him. The house was calm. It should have been so easy to sleep.

Something kept him awake. Since becoming a guardian to his brothers, sometimes he got this feeling in his gut that something was about to happen. He felt it when Pony came home late that night and when Soda approached him to tell him he wanted to drop out. It was this sixth sense he had for his boys. That was what he felt that night.

So he stayed lying there, waiting for something to happen. He was about to give up with his bedroom door creaked open. 

He knew who it was immediately. No one in the gang would have come into his bedroom without knocking, except for his brothers. And he would have heard Ponyboy hesitating in the hallway on the creaky floorboards before coming in. So it had to be Soda.

Darry rolled over and sat up just as Soda perched on the edge of the bed, curling his legs up. His little brother was wearing a truly hideous t-shirt he probably stole from Steve and his hair was all askew as though he’d been running his fingers through it. But the biggest tell was how he kept chewing on his bottom lip. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Darry asked, his voice a little deeper than usual from disuse. 

Soda shrugged, but moved into Darry’s space and tucked his legs under the blankets. A long conversation then. With Pony, he tended to need a lot of build up before admitting what was wrong. With Soda, he would just jump right into it, but it would take longer for Darry to get him calmed down and comforted.

It didn’t surprise him when Soda swallowed thickly and said, “Darry, I can’t do what you do.” His voice had a waiver of emotion to it. 

“What are you talking about, Pepsi?” Darry asked, mind racing as he tried to figure out what was wrong. Soda was an emotional person, but this seemed different. This was heavier than his usual caliber. This reminded Darry too much of how Soda was after their parents died. 

He threw himself into taking care of Pony, but when he was alone, there was a heavy aura around him. Darry felt that same thing now. There was a solemnity to Soda that Darry almost never saw, it worried him a lot. A lot more than Darry would ever admit.

Soda sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, he leaned a little heavier against Darry. “Everything you do for me and Pony and the boys. But if you’re not here, then-then it has to be me and I know I couldn’t do it and I’d just fall apart.”

As he talked, Soda’s voice got thicker and thicker with tears until Darry brought his little brother into a tight hug. Soda clung to him tight. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Darry told him. Where could this idea have come from? It was ridiculous, the notion that Darry would ever leave his brothers or his gang. 

“You don’t know that,” Soda said, his voice pitifully soft. “We didn’t think mom and dad would leave.”

So that’s what it was about. He’d talked to Pony about the same thing after one of his nightmares. After losing their parents so suddenly, anxiety of abrupt loss plagues the three boys. Darry couldn’t help but feel the same, he worried every time one of his brothers came home late.

Darry’s eyes fell closed and he tried to hold Soda even tighter. “I know, honey.” 

“You could get hurt at work or a car accident or-”

Darry hushed him and ran a hand over Soda’s head. He just hugged his brother for a moment while thinking of what to say. He couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t going to happen, he couldn’t promise his brother that he would always be there.

“I don’t want you to worry about any of that,” Darry told him. “But, I get why you do and I hate that it’s something we need to worry about.” 

Soda pulled back, “Will you tell me what I should do? Dar, I’m going to be lost if you’re not here.”

Darry could hear the tears getting thick in Soda��s voice so he cut in quickly to reassure him. “I’ll tell you what, I will put something together for you that if…if the worst happens, it should make it easier.” 

When their parents died, Darry wished he had an instruction manual on what to do. He had to figure out where all of the bills were supposed to go, how to pay them, how to get custody of his brothers, and had to plan their funeral. The thought of Soda being in that position made Darry’s stomach turn.

“But,” Darry squeezed his hand, “but I ain’t letting you look at it. I don’t want you worrying any more than you already do, okay?”

Soda nodded. He hugged Darry again. 

“And while we’re talkin’ about that kind of serious stuff…” Darry sighed. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a while.” Soda lifted his head up, and looked at Darry in confusion. “I never apologized to you for how I dealt with mom and dad.” Soda started to shake his head, but Darry cut him off. “No, I threw myself into trying to keep everything together with the house and custody. You stepped up with helping Pony and I wasn’t there for either of you the way I should have been. I’m sorry.”

Soda threw himself back against Darry and all but tackled him into a hug. “We were all grieving and if you hadn’t done that, who knows where we would be.” 

Darry kissed Soda’s head, “Don’t mean I’m not sorry. You did so much for Pony and I wish I’d done the same for you.”

Soda hugged Darry so tight, Darry worried he might crack one of his ribs. But he didn’t mind. 

The two of them sat there for a long moment. Darry found himself missing when the two of them were younger and sharing a bedroom. Soda would jump onto his bed in the middle of the night and wake him up just to tell him about whatever weird dream he had. Half the time, Soda ended up asleep on the foot of Darry’s bed. 

He wished so much that they didn’t have to grow up so fast, any of them.

“You should get back to Pony,” Darry said after a while. “He’s going to wake up and come stompin’ in here, looking for you.” 

Soda chuckled, “I love you, Dar.” 

“Love you too,” Darry replied. He gave his brother a light shove towards the door. He couldn’t resist adding, “It’s going to be okay, Pepsi. I promise.”

Soda smiled, “Thanks.” 

And as he disappeared into the hallway, Darry laid back down with a sigh. That had been something he wanted to say for the longest time and Soda’s forgiveness…it meant the world to him. 

[littlestarbigsky]

been thinking long and hard abt soda and what it did to him to drop out of high school (i also feel bad bc somehow the only fics i have abt soda are all ships and i know i can do better for my boy)

so here’s a quick lil thing abt darry and soda after soda dropped out :p

darry couldn’t remember the last time soda had been this upset. even after their parents died, there were moments when the gang was all together and soda could laugh and feel the littlest bit normal again, but this felt like it was never going to end, and there was no reprieve. there was no end in sight, and darry couldn’t do anything to help him.

his grades had been going downhill for a while. it wasn’t his fault, or at least not entirely. it had been years since soda had done alright in school on his own instead of barely scraping by, and at some point the class had left him behind and it was like they started speaking another language.

and then their parents died.

soda already had enough trouble missing one day of school, let alone missing a week while they tried to throw together a funeral.

a month after their parents had died, after far too many nights at the kitchen table crying over math homework, after screaming matches that shook the roof over his grades, after darry had yelled so many times about how failing out of school was a surefire way to get them sent to a boy’s home, soda finally said that he was dropping out of school.

he could barely leave his room after telling darry, he couldn’t even tell ponyboy himself. he didn’t know what to do with himself, battling with his own mind every hour of the day. thoughts bouncing around his head of feeling like a failure for not even being able to graduate high school, bullying himself over not being able to joke around about it or making other people happy, which felt like maybe the only thing he was good at anymore. he knew that he was going to fail out eventually, so what was the point?

“soda?” darry cracked the door open, his eyes landing on his little brother where he had been for the last three days: curled up in bed, his back to the door. “do you want some dinner?”

soda silently shook his head.

darry sighed, “you can’t stay in here, forever, pepsi. we miss you out there.”

soda didn’t give much of a response, just gave a half hearted shrug.

“listen,” darry let himself into the room, sitting down on the bed and bringing a hand up to rub soda’s back. “i know you feel lousy, and i know you’ve got a lot on your mind, but you’ve gotta get back to living, soda. you’ve just gotta. we couldn’t get along without you.”

soda rolled over and sat up, and darry had to swallow a gasp at the state of his brother. soda’s eyes were rubbed raw and angry red from crying with deep shadows stamped under them, his hair was sticking up at all angles from the grease he hadn’t washed out in days, and his clothes were wrinkled and hanging loosely off of him.

“soda…”

darry could hardly get the word out before soda had thrown himself at his big brother, tears starting up again. god, he was so tired of crying.

“i’m so sorry,” he cried miserably, clutching to darry with everything he had in him.

darry felt the tears hit his shoulder and his heart ached for his little brother, “i know, i ain’t mad at you, honey.”

“mom and dad just wanted me to graduate and i couldn’t even do that! how am i supposed to do anything if i can’t do that?” soda sobbed.

“they’re not mad at you either, baby, don’t say that,” darry could feel tears prickling in his own eyes.

“listen, i don’t care if you’re lyin’ to me,” soda leaned back, his eyes not meeting darry’s. “but can you please tell me it’s gonna be okay.”

darry felt like he had missed a step going down stairs with the way the words made his stomach drop. he grabbed soda’s face in his hands and forced his brother to look at him.

“it’s gonna be okay, baby. i don’t know when and i don’t know how but i promise you, we’re gonna be okay. i’m gonna make sure we are.”

he wasn’t sure soda believed him, and maybe he didn’t even fully believe himself, but he had made a promise, and he had every intention of making good on it. some of the tension soda had been holding in his shoulders seemed to melt away, and darry knew he would be okay with saying everything over and over again if it meant soda didn’t have to be so scared.

“thank you… i know you hate lying to us.”

“i wasn’t lying.”

[ponstermenis-writing]

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

Darrel Curtis & Everyone Johnnyboy, Stevepop, Darbit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Notice what?”

“You know what!”

“No—No I…I really don't.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But they got it done.

They did it together, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

First is the Shepards.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah man, no problem.” Curly nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

called immediately .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good. Merry Christmas, Merril.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[alittlebitofloveliness]

When I was younger I never felt like I was anyone’s favorite. My sister was my dad’s favorite, and my brother was my mother’s favorite. But then I got older, and me and my sister got closer. And I realize that now I’m her favorite, and that just makes my inner child so happy because I’m someone’s favorite for once.

And idk WHY but I think this could apply to the Curtis brothers.

Hi anon, I'm so sorry for the late reply, my life is hectic as hell right now.

I kind of relate to this, not that my parents have favourites so much, but me and my younger brothers are always and forever locked in a war to be our older brother's favourite.

I think in terms of Outsiders verse it's kind of implied that Ponyboy was the 'odd one out' in the Curtis family (Johnny mentions Darry acted like their mother but looked like their dad, and Soda looked like their mom but acted like their dad), HOWEVER, I think this might not have played out in the family dynamic as Soda and Darry being the favourites. I think Darry was their dad's favourite, and while I don't think Mr.Curtis would be blatant about it, I think the fact he and Darry were so close and Darry always wanted to be just like him would make it clear to Soda and Pony there was a bond there that they didn't/would never have with their father. And Pony was the baby. Moms often get really attached to their youngest kids because its their 'last chance' to see their kids so, well, everything. Last baby things, last first steps, last first day of school, etc. So I could see Mrs. Curtis' kind of falling prey to this mentality, and Pony being her favourite, especially since Pony is the youngest of the gang and would probably stay with her while Darry and maybe Soda got to do 'big kid stuff'.

But Soda? Sodapop Patrick Curtis? People pleaser extrodinaire? he's the quintessential middle child struggling with mental health issues and a learning disability in a time where neither of those were properly adressed. Sure, his parents loved him but he knew he wasn't either of their favourites, even if Mr and Mrs Curtis treated them all the same. So when PONYBOY starts following him around at age two? When he chooses to run to SODA after a nightmare instead of mom? When he gets a little older and tells soda about the kids who are being mean to him at school? Soda's heart is GONE. Pony stole it, because Pony CHOSE him. Soda is used to being Steve's favourite, but he is used to being overlooked by his own family, until Ponyboy comes along and makes it clear from day one that Soda is his hero, his unequivocal FAVOURITE? Yeah, Soda was done for. And when their parents died? The only reason Soda didn't sink into despair or turn to booze as a way to cope was because Pony still looked at him like a hero, maybe even more so than before, and Soda couldn't let him down. He couldn't do anything that might jeapordize Pony looking at him like that. Because Pony CHOSE him, and Soda couldn't handle a reality where he wasn't Pony's favourite anymore, because being Pony's favourite is half of what keeps him sane.

Thanks for the ask xx

[im-normal-about-everything]

Content warning: violence, gun violence, death

Look out for yourself and enjoy <3

Ponyboy Micheal Curtis was eleven years old when he first picked up a cigarette. Most of the gang smoked, so no one really cared besides his parents. His dad wouldn't let him smoke in the house, but would buy him a pack of kools when he asked and his mom just shook her head but didn't say anything about it.

Ponyboy was twelve when his brothers first let him fight in a rumble. Some soc had pissed off Dally and they'd gotten into it, but they just kept fighting. It got so bad that a rumble was called. Pony was easily the youngest one there, Curly Shepard being the closest to his age. He tagged up on a pretty big soc with Johnny and took him down together. Pony wasn't hurt too badly, at least in his opinion, his brothers didn't seem to think the same.

Ponyboy was thirteen when he found out that his parents weren't coming home. His oldest brother had signed him out of science class, which was nice because he hated science, and took him home. Darry didn't say anything on the ride home, he just drove with a kind of gleam in his eyes and a sad, far away look. When they got home, he found Soda sitting on the couch, looking upset but not really sad. That changed when Darry explained that their parents were killed in a car crash, and Soda broke. Pony did too, and he's pretty sure that Darry was crying as well.

Ponyboy was fourteen when his brother hit him. His family never hit, it just wasn't something that they did. He always thought that Darry hated him, but he wasn't happy that his fears were finally confirmed.

Ponyboy was fourteen when his best friend killed someone for him. The socs were drowning him in the fountain and he was sure that he was gonna die there. He went unconscious and the next thing he knew, his kicked-puppy of a friend, Johnny Cade, had killed a boy to save him.

Ponyboy was fourteen when he and Johnny ran away. They stayed in an old church for a week before they talked to anyone else besides each other. His hair was cut and blonde, it reminded him of Dally's, but he didn't like that so he tried not to think about it.

Ponyboy was fourteen when he ran into the church that was on fire. He didn't know why he did it, not really, but it's probably because he was responsible for the fire. He had to get those kids out, even if he didn't know them and he might get hurt. He had to get them out, apparently, Johnny agreed.

Ponyboy was fourteen when he woke up in an ambulance with an unknown man. The man explained that Dally didn't knock him out for fun, he was on fire and Dally saved him. He also explained that Johnny was in real bad condition and might not make it.

Ponyboy was fourteen when he fought in a rumble caused by him. Well, he didn't call the rumble, but the point still stands. He fought hard, but so did the socs. He got knocked down and stepped on by Tim Shepard, but it was fine because he was fine. Everything was fine.

Ponyboy was fourteen when Dally took him to the hospital. They went to Johnny's room to tell him about the rumble but he didn't look so good. Johnny said it was useless and Dally looked real upset over that, but told Johnny that he was proud of him.

Ponyboy was fourteen when Johnny whispered his last words. He told Pony to stay gold. He didn't know if he could.

Ponyboy was fourteen when he explained what happened to the gang. He told them that Johnny was dead and that Dally couldn't take it. He was gonna blow up, more than he did in the hospital room already

Ponyboy was fourteen when Darry got a call from Dally. Dally robbed a store and the police were after him. The gang ran to the park just in time to hear the shots of police guns. Dally hit the ground and died.

Ponyboy was fourteen when he woke up in his bed, Darry by his side. He had been sick. He was sick because he didn't have enough to eat on the run. Johnny was probably sick too. No. Johnny couldn't be sick. Johnny was dead. But he wasn't, right? No, Ponyboy killed Bob and Johnny was still alive. He just wasn't here.

Ponyboy was fourteen when he went to court. Cherry and Randy defended him and Johnny. Johnny, who was dead and there was nothing he could do about it. The court asked him some questions about home and then decided to let him stay with Darry.

Ponyboy was fourteen when he learned that Soda hated when he and Darry fought. He didn't mean to make his brother feel like that, and he promised to never do it again.

Ponyboy was fourteen when the socs wouldn't leave him alone. They'd follow him and hit him and break his stuff. There wasn't much he could do to stop it.

Pony was fourteen when a soc brought a heater to track. He'd been at track practice with the other guys. He was one of the last to change and leave the locker room. When he left the room, he was dragged behind the school by a soc that was pretty good friends with Bob.

Ponyboy was fourteen when a soc shot him in the head in the back of the school. He fought, but there was nothing he could do. He just hoped a teacher or someone else found him instead of a member of the gang.

Ponyboy Micheal Curtis was fourteen, and he'll never get to be any older because life wasn't fair. Life never dealt him the right cards and he never got to win.

Ponyboy Micheal Curtis didn't die as a hero or as a hoodlum, he died as a message and a warning.

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

My arm has been twisted and I now offer the people of tumblr my 1800 word Darry yap:

Thinking about Darry and his parents. More specifically, Darry and his dad. How they must’ve been so close. How Darry loved both of his parents to the moon and back, but he just had a special bond with his dad. He knew he could always rely on him, so since he was three, he’s always wanted his dad. If he woke up from a nightmare, if he was sick, if he fell and scraped his knee, he always wanted his dad. How he felt so guilty about that for a while. It wasn’t until he was eight and realized that Soda was always reaching for their mama that he started to feel a little better. He felt like it was ok that he reached for their dad when his brothers reached for their mom.

How Darry grew up carrying so much pride in the fact that his father gave him his name. He loved that a piece of his dad was always with him. He also knew how proud his dad was of him. How he knew Darry would do some much in his life. He saw the way his father’s face filled with joy when Darry showed him his first football jersey with the name Curtis on the back. He remembers opening up a college acceptance letter and scholarship and immediately running to his dad. How Darry had handed him the letter and his father’s eyes had filled with tears. How that was the first time Darry saw his dad cry. He remembers how his dad had put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him right before the state championship game and told him that no matter what, he was proud of him. He remembers that after his dad had went to go find his mom and brothers, he’d made a silent promise that he’d do everything he could to win. And he did.

He also remembers the night before he was going up to his college dorm. How he’d sat in his room, his backpack open and completely empty. He’d looked around at the room he’d grown up in, and he was scared. He was terrified. How he’d walked over to his dresser and picked up a framed picture of him and his parents and brothers right after the championship game. Darry’s hair was sweaty against his head, but he had the biggest smile on his face. Ponyboy and Soda were hugging him, also with big smiles. His mom looked so proud of her son. But the only face he could focus on was his father’s. How his dad had a smile that rivaled Darry’s. Darry felt his chest swell with emotion looking at the photo. And suddenly, there were drops on the glass that covered the picture. Then, his father was standing in the doorframe. But by the time Darry had blinked, his dad was sitting next to him on his bed. His dad just reached out and let Darry, his first son, the boy who carried his name, the boy who made him a father, cry into his shoulder. Because he shouldn’t be this stressed about leaving. He should be excited, lord knows Darrel Sr would’ve been if he’d gone to college. But here he was, venting out all his fears while his dad just reassured him that he’d be fine. And he had Paul too. Even if he wouldn’t see his family every day, he still had a piece of home with him, after all, Paul was going to be his roommate so he’d probably see him so much they’d be sick of each other.

But then, his dad died. And suddenly, Darry was standing in the living room of the house he grew up, 15 feet from his dad’s chair, being told that his parents were gone. Dead. Suddenly, he was telling the cop that he would become his brothers’ legal guardian. Suddenly, filling out the paper work and writing down his name made nausea swirl in his stomach and made his head hurt. Because that wasn’t his name. That was his dad’s name. But that didn’t matter right now, what mattered was keeping his brothers safe and home. So he just filled it out and gave it to the state. He dropped out of college. He got a full time job at the same place his dad used to work. And he was slowly becoming Darrel.

Darry left the house six times during the week Pony was gone. Five of those times were to go to work because bills didn’t care if your baby brother could be dead somewhere. The other time was to go to the cemetery. Normally he would’ve taken Soda, but he couldn’t this time. Because he wasn’t even out of the car before he broke down sobbing. He cried in his car for a little bit, before deciding he needs to do what he came to do. So he got up, and walked over to the headstone at his mom and dad’s grave. He sat down and just started apologizing. He told them he was so sorry. He was so sorry that he couldn’t protect his brothers. He was so sorry that their baby ran away and it was his fault. He was so sorry for hurting them. He told them he didn’t know how they did it. He told them he wished they would come back. He wished they’d never left in the first place. He wished that Pony would come home. How he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he wished it brother would come home. Maybe not even for him, but for Soda. He told them that he couldn’t stand the fear he’d seen fill Pony’s eyes after he hit him. He looked at the gravestone with his parents names carved in it, and he told them he never meant to fuck up this bad. He told them that maybe it’d be better if Soda and Pony were with someone else. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be taking care of them. He told them that he knew Pony hated him, he knew Pony thought Darry hated him. Darry swore he didn’t, he loved his brothers more than anything. He didn’t even remember when he started crying, he just tasted the salt of tears in his mouth. So he shut his eyes tight in an attempt to stop them, because who the hell was he to cry? He did this, why should he get to be upset over it?

And in that moment, with his eyes shut, he could’ve sworn he felt his father’s reassuring hand on his shoulder, or his mother’s warm fingers wipe away the tears running down his cheeks. Maybe it was the wind, but Darry would’ve sworn that he heard their voices reassuring him. Maybe he was crazy, but he stood up and thanked them anyway. He’d told them he loved them and that he was going to do everything he could to bring their baby back home.

Darry mentally kicked himself when he got home and saw the kitchen light on. Because that meant Soda had and he was probably freaking out at waking up to an empty house in the middle of the night. So, Darry braced himself for the worst. But what he didn’t expect, was seeing the kitchen and living room empty. Confused, he’d gone to Soda’s room, it was also empty, but it was clear that Soda had been sleeping there because his half of the bed was all messed up, like someone had been tossing and turning. It wasn’t until he reached his own bedroom door that he heard quiet cries. So he’d pushed open the door and was met with the sight of Soda, curled in on himself, body shaking while he cried. Darry was immediately sent into older brother mode while he walked over to his brother. He’d knelt down in front of him and quietly asked him what was wrong. Soda’s head shot up at his brother’s voice and he just whispered out that he’d thought Darry had left too. And the sight of his little brother looking so scared and small broke Darry’s heart even further, something he didn’t even think was possible. It wasn’t until he’d managed to calm down Soda enough to convince him that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he saw Soda holding something. It was a frame. And in it was the picture of their family from Darry’s senior year. The photo with Darry smiling the biggest he ever had. The photo with Pony and Soda clinging to their big brother because of how amazing they thought he was. And then there was his mom, who looked so proud of him that he almost started crying. Lastly, there was his dad. His dad with the proud smile, equally as big as Darry’s. His dad who had taken off a whole day of work just to drive the whole family out to see him play. His dad who taught Darry how to play football in the first place. And looking at him did make Darry start to cry. So he pulled Soda close, and they just looked down at their family photo. Their family before it was shattered and separated. Their family when it was whole, and complete, and happy.

Soda spent the night in Darry’s room after that. He refused to let Darry out of his sight for fear that he was gone or he was going to leave the minute Soda fell asleep. But when they were both tucked in Darry’s too small bed, Soda finally let himself succumb to sleep. But Darry couldn’t sleep. He was too busy thinking about his dad. How would he feel seeing Darry now? Would he be proud of how his son stepped up? Or would he shake his head in disappointment and say that Darry was hurting his brothers? Then, Darry lets his mind wander to thoughts of how things would be if his parents never died. Would he wake up to his mom laughing at her 20 and 16 year old sons sleeping in a full size bed? Would he walk out to see his dad reading the paper in his chair? Would he kiss his mama’s cheek then ask his dad if they were watching the game on Sunday? Would his dad say that he had work, but somehow still turn up in time to watch at least half of it with him? Would he be working with his dad? No, he’d probably still be at college. Maybe starting his junior year by now. Maybe his dad would joke that his son would be in the draft in a few years. Maybe he’d call his brother’s and give them relationship advice while Paul sat on his bed giggling at him. Maybe in that world, he could look at pictures of his parents without longing for one more conversation. One more rushed goodbye because he was late. One more time that his dad patted him on the back. One more time his dad gave him a proud smile and said he was glad his son wore his name.

[kaytheday]

Young and Stupid - Ace and Soda

Young and stupid, but not in the way you might think.

Bright eyes and a closeness that only exists between kids who’ve known each other since birth. Ace’s teeth were shining and Sodapop was laughing that big smile that split half of his face as she climbed up on his back. Ace had never felt more comfortable than when she was next to Sodapop. Not in her Aunt's house and definitely not on the fire escape in that alley she slept in with Steve when things were bad at home.

Sodapop was comfortable. Since they were kids, she had always felt a certain ease with him that nobody else in her life could quite match. It helped that Soda fell in love with her on the spot but that wasn’t all. From the beginning, they could tell each other anything. He let her feel like a girl without making her feel bad about it. He was nothing like anyone she’d ever met.

It was the same for Sodapop. With Ace, everything seemed to be… easier. He could always tell Ace the things that neither of his brothers should hear. She was also one of the only members of the gang who wouldn’t hesitate to give him physical contact if he needed it. Dallas definitely wasn’t like that.

Ace thought they seemed to fit together perfectly. Filling through all the cracks that the other lacked. What was it that her Gram used to say? That their souls must have been made from the same stardust? Or something like that anyway.

It didn’t matter, in that moment, Ace knew that whatever her Gram had said was most certainly true. She and Sodapop were cut from the same cloth. Souls made from the same stardust.

Young and stupid, but not in the way you might think.

There were so many teachers at Will Rogers high school that thought the reason Soda dropped out was because he was stupid. But Ace knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. There was no world where you could convince her that Sodapop was stupid. He had known so many things about her that she hadn't told a soul. He was good that way, picking up on all the little things about people that everyone else seemed to look over.

Ace was eleven when she found out what happened to her dad. He had died, she’d known that much before. What she hadn’t known was that he was strung up from a tree in the Greenwood district after being tortured for hours. The kicker was that he hadn’t done anything. Not really. He had supposedly whistled at a white woman but Ace knew there was no way that was true. Black men in Oklahoma had been killed for far less than that.

It shouldn’t have mattered to her. He had been dead for years but finding out how he had died reopened the wound and made it hurt all the worse.

Sodapop had found her sitting on the porch of her aunt's tiny apartment smoking a cigarette and shaking. He was holding a beat up basketball and two coke bottles, he had likely come over to see if she wanted to go and do something. If it had been any other member of the gang, they would have seen that she was in a bad mood and left. But not Sodapop.

He noticed something was wrong immediately. Sitting down next to her and slinging an arm around her. Instead of asking her what was wrong, or worse, telling her everything would be okay, he just sat with her.

Then she had finally collapsed under the weight of it all and she’d cried. Heavy sobs that left her throat aching and his shirt covered in snot.

Soda never complained though, he hadn’t even tried to understand why she was so upset. Soda never would be able to anyway and he probably knew it. So he just held her and reminded her that he was here and he was never leaving.

Despite how insignificant Soda felt, it was exactly what Ace needed. To be held and told that there was someone in her life who would never leave.

Young and stupid, but not in the way you might think.

Ace can remember the night when Sodapops parents died.

It was nearly two in the morning when she heard the rocks hitting her window. She stepped over Steve and Bales, trying not to wake them as she went to the window to see what the hell was going on.

It was Sodapop throwing them, he looked terrible with a pale face and red rimmed eyes. But despite the fact that he looked like he was about to pass out, he had the energy of a lighting bolt. Quick and sharp with the ability to hurt despite that dangerous beauty.

Before she knew it, Ace was scrambling out the window and down the fire escape. Trying to get to Soda before he did something reckless. There was no doubt that she’d seen him at his worst moments, but nothing like this.

So there she stood in front of him trying to figure out what was wrong.

“It’s nearly two in the mornin’ Sodapop. What’s wrong?” She could have told him he was stupid or reckless for coming to find her at this hour but to be honest, with the state he was in, she was glad Soda had found her instead of being alone.

“You wanna go do something? Get outta here?”

“Soda what’s wrong?” She repeated instead of answering. She knew him better than anyone and nothing about this felt right.

“Nothin’s wrong.” He tried for a smile but it came out pained and watery. “I just need to move. I need to do something.” He shook out his hands and pushed them back into fists.

“Okay.” She said slowly. She could help him… whatever it was. “We can go do something. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Was all he said before they started off.

They walked around the town for hours in the dark. They ended up at a park, both starting on the swings and running all through the playground. Eventually, Ace was left sitting on the ground as she tried to stay awake. Sodapop ran himself ragged on the monkey bars and the slide and then the swings. He was talking, saying everything that he could never tell his brothers and she was listening.

It wasn’t much but it was exactly what he needed. For someone to actually listen to him.

Finally, only when the sun started to come up did she cut him off.

“Soda we gonna keep playing on these monkey bars like we’re six years old or are we gonna go see your brothers?” He gave a sigh and hopped down.

“We may not be six years old anymore Ace, but we’re still young ain’t we?”

Young and stupid, but not in the way you might think.

Greasers from the East side didn’t get to be young and they didn’t get to be stupid but that’s still how people painted them anyway.

Painted as young juvenile delinquents even though Ace and Soda both grew up way before their time.

Ace’s parents both died before she turned ten. She was shuffled around various homes and she quickly grew accustomed to taking care of herself. Even though she had an older brother who would do anything for her, it wasn’t quite the same thing as having a mother. She was the one that had to learn how to be a girl and she wasn’t even good at that.

Sodapop’s parents died when he was sixteen. Suddenly he had to step up and help Darry with the bills and help keep Ponyboy out of his own head. He had to be an adult at sixteen and on top of that he had to push down all that grief and keep going.

Greasers didn’t get to be young and Ace and Sodapop were no exception. They both grew up well before other kids their own age. They were forced to take care of themselves while every adult in both of their lives failed them in some way.

Greasers were painted as stupid criminals with minds full of bricks even though Soda and Ace both had to be smart to survive.

Ace had become an expert at disguising herself. She had to be. Boyish clothes, unkempt hair, and a bad attitude became her best defense against the prying eyes of men. Expertly, knowing how to keep wandering eyes and unfriendly hands away from her took skills and smarts that a less intelligent person wouldn’t have been capable of. Ace had been doing this since she was born, it was her only defense and it required her to be smart.

Though many teachers would disagree, Sodapop was not stupid. He could read people easier than any book and always knew exactly what they needed. You have to be smart to keep your family together and play both sides of the same coin with your brothers. But you have to be even smarter to understand how to deal with the feelings of Steve Randle.

Greasers didn’t get to be stupid and Ace and Sodapop were no exception. Not when you have to protect yourself from the dangers of Tulsa and not when you have to keep your family together.

Young and stupid, but not in the way you might think.

That night both of them were young and stupid. They really were the only ones who could fix things for each other. Smiling as they pushed all the cares of the world into the deep recesses of their mind and just enjoyed each other. Like two matches. Like twin flames. Like two stars in the sky. As close as family. Blood mingled together as the world crashed down beneath them. Closer than family.

In the end, all they have is each other. Greasers stick together and Sodapop and Ace are no exception. They may be young and stupid but as long as they have each other, they’ll come out okay.

A03 Link

[alaskan-wallflower]

(tw for suicide mention and alcohol)

super silly goofy fun time headcanon under the cut 😃

when the curtis parents died, the day after the funeral darry was at a job interview pretending like nothing happened. because in his mind nothing did happen. he planned the interview a week prior. his parents are still alive and well. he’s not single parenting his brothers. he’s not more of a father than a brother. he didn’t just watch his parents be buried. he didn’t. he tells himself as such. and he immediately gets the job and starts working his tail off. but he’s providing for his brothers and his parents. they’re not dead. they’re not dead. months go by and around three months later darry is in his room alone. he just heard pony say he would rather have soda stay with him at night over darry. and it stung. he felt a limp in his throat as he simply nodded. that night he sleeps with his door cracked open with the small sliver of hope that pony would choose him again. that they could go back to old times. that pony was still able to get out of bed. that soda would genuinely smile instead of putting on a forced facade because he was essentially gluing them together. he spends a few hours just staring at the ceiling before something catches his eye. his football trophy. he swears he hears his dads voice telling him “it’s gonna be okay, Junior.” and darry loses it.

he closes the door and just absolutely breaks down. he shoves away all his football trophies. he doesn’t bother being careful. it’s all gone. his old life is all gone and this is going with it. he doesn’t bother being careful. his parents are gone and there’s nothing he can do. after he shoves the box of now half broken football trophies away he sneaks downstairs to the liquor cabinet. he hasn’t done it much. he had gotten a bit tipsy with two bit on more than one occasion but he knew that was going to be nothing like what he was about to do. he wanted closure. he wanted to feel numb. and so he grabbed the bottle of his father’s favorite that he’d let darry have a few sips from as a late teen and sneaks back upstairs and closes the door. he looks at his old football uniform. he stares at it. he remembers the nights he spent quietly crying because he didn’t think he would make it on the team, or he didn’t think they had enough money to buy a uniform. but he also remembers on his thirteenth birthday where his dad had worked double shifts the entire month and scraped together the money for a uniform. He looked on the back. “Curtis 23.” it read. he took it off the wall and held it. Then he approaches his helmet. His father had written on the inside of it. “I’m always proud of you, champ. Even when you can’t hear me say it.” and he looks into his reflection on the dark surface of the helmet. There he sees his dad. But it isn’t his dad…it’s him. It’s his reflection. He blinks once and it fades away and all that’s left is his broken facial expression as he cups a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs as he pops the top off the liquor bottle and drinks it. it burns. but he knows in twenty minutes the pain will dull. it always did. He spots his switchblade. The one his mother had protested against him having but his father insisted he would need it. Hell, was social status so dangerous that his own father thought he had to carry one?

The drunken haze came quicker than he thought. It hit especially hard in his empty stomach, which gurgled and churned with alcohol and dispair. He stared into the knife before thinking. They’d be better off without him. He couldn’t even hold it to together. he was the oldest. he had to be the strongest. and he wasn’t doing as much. He had been sneaking alcohol like a drunkard on more than one occasion. He imagined Soda and Pony sleeping in the next room. He imagined them and how they seemed to get along so well and he wished he could go back and not take his younger brothers’s clingy love for granted. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until he saw red on his hands. Even in his drunken state he knew what he was trying to do. He couldn’t take living anymore. Not like this. Not without his dad. But he had to keep going. For his brothers. He was conflicted. but he pulled himself together. he bandaged his wrists sloppily and honestly didn’t even register anything until he woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, crusted blood surrounding where his throbbing wrists were and the stench of alcohol and vomit filling his room.

should i write fanfics 🤩

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

A Hunger games AU?!?!

You are so evil and devious and cruel…

Give me more

I was gonna talk about all of book 1 but the reaping kinda got long so here’s my thoughts on the reaping day

So the Curtis gang all grow up in district 12 and if you thought they were poor before, they’re like barely surviving now. They died when Darry was 16 in this tho. Darry does a LOT of illegal hunting to keep them alive. He makes Soda come with him a lot because if something happens to him he wants them to like- not die-

The rules of these games are that they pull a guy and a girl but anybody can volunteer for anybody

Darry did everything he could to keep his brothers safe while he was a teenager. Soda wasn’t allowed to take out tessera, but when Darry turned 18, there was nothing else to do. They’ve both determined Ponyboy will NEVER take one out. So if I did the math right Soda should have 8 entries and Ponyboy has 2.

Ofc it doesn’t end up meaning much anyways because the time comes and Ponyboy gets reaped. Darry legit almost passes out and Soda is frozen for a couple seconds. But after a couple seconds he comes back to himself and without thinking he volunteers

Ponyboy freaks out, and Steve is like ‘what the fuck are you doing-‘. Darry doesn’t know how to feel ngl but he isn’t surprised. Honestly though nobody in the gang has any hope in Soda, they’re trying to pretend they do though

That would be the end of it, but when they ask for volunteers, who else steps up by Steve Randle. Soda immediately panics and begs him to take it back but Steve already had his heart set on this and there was nothing anyone else could do.

Goodbyes are…a lot. Soda was crying even before he made it into the building, and it got worse the second he saw his brothers. Ponyboy shouted at him for a little bit before curling up in his arms and sobbing. 

Darry was straight to business. He told Soda to stay away from people and hide for as long as possible. He told him not to worry about him and Ponyboy, that they would be fine and waiting for him if he came home. If.

Finally Darry pulls him into a hug, telling Soda how much he loves him. Then, the three minutes are up and Ponyboy are dragged out of the room. Ponyboy fights, and manages to crash into Soda’s arms one more time before he’s dragged out. Soda cracks open the door and peeks out, immediately shutting it when the last glimpse he gets of Darry is his holder brother crying.

Dally, Two, and Johnny all come in at the same time. Two and Johnny don’t say much, just wrapping him into a hug. Two starts to promise that he’ll be okay,  but Dally yells not to say that

Dally proceeds to tell him he’s fucked once he’s in that arena. Once the games start there is absolutely nothing he can do for himself. So, he needs to make every second before that count if he wants to stand a chance. He’s handsome, he’s charismatic, he can get the audience to fall in love with him and that’s what he needs to do. He’s about to tell Soda something else, but time runs out and they’re dragged out of the room before he can.

His next visitor is a shock to him. Paul Holden, who’s the mayors son, comes in and calmly sits across from him, they make pointless conversation until Soda asks why he’s there. Paul says he doesn’t know. They sit in silence for the rest of the time, and Paul leaves willingly when the time comes. As he’s leaving he tells Soda his brothers will be fine, and that they’ll eat as long as he has something to say about it

After that Soda just spends some time alone trying to compose himself. At least for the moment, he makes peace with the fact that he’s probably going to die next week. His sadness turns into anger at Steve

Eventually he gets taken to the train, on the way him and Steve walk by eachother. They don’t talk but the tension is already there. Steve hadn’t cried at all yet, his dad didn’t even come to see him and the gang already knew what he was doing and didn’t try to talk him out of it. (Darry had come in crying, and thanked Steve once he learned of the plan. Steve promised to bring his brother home)

These boys tear up the food table in the train. They both feel super sick after. They meet their mentor and escort though. Their mentor is a drunk like Haymitch is, and Soda takes it as the first of many signs showing how absolutely fucked he is.

Neither of them like the escort much. Steve hates her and Soda thinks she’s well meaning but she also keeps talking about how lucky they are to be here. Eventually they both just leave and are left alone in the hallway.

They have the first genuine argument they’ve ever had. Soda yells at Steve for putting himself at stake like that, and for putting them into a situation where they have to compete for their lives. And then Steve says that they’re not competing because they’re getting Soda home, and that just makes him more upset

The fight ‘ends’ when Steve says it was Soda’s fault they’re here anyways cause he’s the one who volunteered first. Soda asks if he should’ve just let his little brother die and Steve doesn’t respond. Soda storms off to his room, Steve goes to his, and this time they both cry into their pillows. 

[nateconnolly]

When I was fourteen, I asked Grandma to sue for custody over me and my brother. She would probably have won, too. Our neighbors had called the sheriffs more than once when they heard the screaming. I denied everything, but it all got written down anyways. The court could subpoena those records, I would honestly testify in court, and that would be the end of it. 

We were stargazing in her back yard. She drank whiskey. She wouldn’t let me have any, even though I drank with Dad all the time, so I had a Pepsi. I carried two lawn chairs out into the darkness. Only it wasn’t really darkness. On the eve of a full moon, I could see the smallest lines of the bar code on my soda can. That night was a new moon without clouds. Nothing to obscure the stars. 

For years, I had wanted to ask Grandma to adopt us, but I never found the courage. The idea just burned inside my head. I dreamed of leaving home and living with her; instead, the words had always died in my throat. Impossible to speak, impossible to keep inside. 

That night, Toby was sleeping like a rock inside, my soda was sweet, the stars were shining, and I thought, I want to be here every night. So I decided to finally tell Grandma what I wanted.

“I want to stay with you.”

“You can stay the night. We’ll just go in and call your father to let him know where you are.” 

“No. I want to stay here permanently.”

Grandma didn’t say a word.

“I want you to sue for custody,” I said. 

“Jesus, Jasper…” she said. “What do you think that would do to your father?”

“He’d have two less mouths to feed.”

“And two more holes in his heart.” 

“He doesn’t love me.”

“Of course he loves you.”

I swallowed. I had already admitted my deepest fantasy—that Grandma would take me and my brother away—and suddenly, I found that I couldn’t keep secrets anymore. Once I allowed the dam to crack, the flood was inevitable. I said something I had never admitted to anyone before. 

“He hits me.” I waited for Grandma to react. “He hits me hard. Way too hard.” 

I stared into my grandmother’s agonized eyes, hoping she would solve all my problems, but she just stared back at me in silence.

“Yesterday, he put out a cigarette on my chest.” I pulled up my t-shirt and showed her the burn on my ribs. “Just because I forgot to take out the trash.”

She still didn’t say anything. I could see her heart slowly breaking apart. 

But I also saw that she wasn’t going to intervene. 

I had always assumed my grandmother actually would try to take me and Toby once she knew how Dad treats us. I thought I only had to work up the courage to  ask. If she knew, she would stop it. She would save me. But she had always known, hadn’t she?

Grandma ruffled my hair. 

“When I was a young woman, not much older than you, I would drive to Utah every winter and backpack in the Uintas,” she said. “Completely alone. Sometimes, I would be out there for more than two weeks. The hardest part came halfway through the trip. There was this twelve-mile-long stretch of land without ponds or rivers, which meant that I couldn’t stop and sleep. If I slept, I would wake up without water, and I would die. Once I set out through the dry land, I had to keep moving. No matter what. 

“You know how I got through it? I would pick a tree close in front of me, and I would let myself think of nothing else. That tree was the center of every thought in my head. I told myself, ‘You only have to make it to that tree. Then you can stop.’ And it helped, even though it wasn’t true. If I told myself to walk twelve miles, I would drop dead. But I told myself that I only had to walk a few feet to the next tree — and I told myself that at least a thousand times. That mantra got me through it. Because walking to the tree feels like nothing, and by the time you’ve reached it, you feel strong enough to reach the next.” 

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Just one more tree, kiddo.”

Full story free here

[givethemsmut]

The Pack | Chapter Five

Characters: Dylan O’Brien, fem!reader

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan x You

With our first date and sex twice under our belt I unlocked my front door knowing my Dad wasn’t home. I had every bad intention as Dylan’s hand laced with mine.

Our house was big but modest, clean, tidy, you could say unlived in. Skipping the tour and immediately showed him my bedroom, leaving him at the threshold of my door. Putting my bag and my jacket down I slipped out of my converse.

Out hungry eyes locked and I could feel every way we wanted round three tickle my body.

Walking into me until my ass hit the edge of my bed, Dylan was leaning over me with his head dipped low enough for our mouths to collide. Our kisses got more intense before he pulled away, whispering, “condom?”

And I shook my head no unable to string letters together with Dylan’s hands roaming my body. Our tongues touched again, “Hey, hey, I need a condom baby. I haven’t relieved myself in awhile…”

I forced myself to whisper back, “My dad’s bathroom maybe.”

He spring up excited, “Where am I going?” I pointed to across the hallways and he left quickly. I took the time to undress myself, both my pants and shirt. I left my undergarments to keep myself covered even tho there wasn’t much material on either. Dylan brought the whole hand full back and I laughed, “We might need them all.”

A boy in my room, the door closed and these undeniable feelings reminded me of Brody while he raided my Dad’s bathroom for condoms. Wrong house but right memories.

At my dad’s it was less artistic and rustic, it was more clean and modern. My sophomore year started off here so there was still plenty of memories exactly ones like this.

P A S T

I rebelled after my mom pasted away. All the ways my friends teased me for being a prude, sober, controlled faded away. Brody was two years ahead of me and was in college when I was finishing high school. My dad had to go out of town to shoot on location in Vegas so Brody invited me to his fraternities annual Date Dash on campus.

Accepting, I gave him a hard time for whatever lame ass thing he did. The frat was judging every move he made as a new pledge, I could feel their eyes on me. Lately, it had been because my mom died and no one knew what to say to me. Instead they would stare.

The house didn’t smell and wasn’t dirty like movies portrayed. Brody showed me around and introduced me to all his brothers before he handed me a cup of vodka and soda.

Two cups later I pulled Brody into the bathroom with me as I sat on the sink pulling him between my legs. He could tell I was drunk as he stayed very stoic. I whispered into his neck, “Fuck me already.”

He drank the rest of His contains in the red solo cup than created distance between us before he said, “You’re drunk, babe. Just try to relax and have fun.” In retrospect I understand he was giving me time to heal but I was reckless then.

Angry, I pushed him away further away as I socialized at the party. One of the brothers, must have been respected and took a liking to me when the eyes finally peeled away like he won the prize.

His hand on my ass he led me to a library where a few scattered brothers were hanging out. Almost hiding. There was a pool table and mini bar in the corner of the room. I swayed to the music as he leaned against the table. kissing my neck just once his husky voice gave me goosebumps, “Take off your top.”

I felt beyond drunk and I wanted to hurt myself to match the pain of losing my mom so I listened. I peeled my tank top off and exposed my white see through bra as I danced against him lap. His hands touched my waist, my legs covered in my black tights and his lips grazed my neck. He asked me, “I saw you with Brody earlier. Do you go here?”

Turning to face him I tossed out a simple response, “Nope.”

His brothers were watching me sway my hips between his legs hoping he’d share. He started to ask another question but all I felt was Brody’s arm pulling me away from the fun. Down the hallway he stopped pushing me roughly against the wall, clearly angry, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

He quickly took off his letterman jacket and forced my body to hide inside.

I bit my lips, “Jealous?”

His hand was on the wall behind me and he leaned in, “Don’t. You’re being reckless. I get why but slow down before you regret shit.”

I shouted back to him, “Regret What? I don’t do anything Brody! I was the perfect kid because she was sick and didn’t need the stress! You’ve wanted to fuck me since high school and when I finally open up my legs you reject me.”

Brody got close to my face, “You wanna have fun? Open your mouth.”

I opened my mouth for Brody to pull out a breath mint and place it on my tongue. He whispered into my ear, “Happy? You’re gonna be high in 10 minuets. Let’s get out of here before you start rapping my brothers.”

He drove back to my dads and we ended up in my room. I laid down watching Brody carefully get undressed and putting his clothes on the chair at my desk. I let his letterman jacket slide off my arms and I started to roll down my tights from under my skirt.

“What are you doing?”

I giggled, high at this point, “Is that a fetish of yours? Tights?”

He kneeled over my body pushing me back while kissing me before he pulled away just enough to say, “You’re so high right now. I can’t take your virginity like that.”

Kissing his neck, dragging my lips as I spoke, “Can’t you make an exception? Pretty please…”

Brody took off his shirt between our bodies, “Where’s that box? Under the bed?” I shook my head yes to the box of condoms, a vibrator and other toys I had hidden away.

He reached for the box as I unzipped my leather skirt and laid back down in my see through bra and panties. He kissed me again, our lips colliding and our hands touching what we could reach. I undid his pants and his big hand gripped mine, stopping me.

I saw the vibrator in his hand turn on to a low hum as he said, “Open these legs baby.”

I opened them as the distance between us left a gap for him to push the toy against my panties. I moaned against his chest whispering, “I don’t want a toy. I want you Brody. Please.”

I was begging as the small gasps left my mouth. He put down the toy to pull my panties down between us. I saw his hands adjust himself through his pants before he kissed my lips again.

He was hurting, controlling himself and his fragile ego that refused to be rejected again.

Feeling the toy push inside me – cold and hard. His body between my legs pushed back to see the toy fuck me as my hips moved to meet the pushes. I begged some more until he took his pants off and got between my legs.

Warm tongues tangling and hungry. I whispered against his lips, “I’m wet enough baby. Please.”

His hips continued to push against mine, humping with his underwear on, “Relax baby. There’s time.

Pushing him down straddling his bulge and ride his lap, “I wanna ride it Brody. Just like this.”

His hands grabbed my hips and kept my hips riding him, “Just like that baby.”

I stopped, burying my hand in his boxer briefs and fishing every hard inch out without him stopping me. I let it lay against my stomach, that’s how hard he was and I kept riding him except this time my wet pussy would glide against me.

I continued to moan as my hips rode him and I stopped again pushing his penis down so I could sit on him. He felt my clit on his tip pushed me down getting between my legs, “Do you know how hard it is to reject you right now? You’re high, drunk and you know… hurting. Not now. Okay?”

I couldn’t believe the guy who has pushed for sex since I was a freshman, the guy who filmed us fooling around and sent it out to our whole school to see he was getting some, didn’t want to have sex with me.

How mortifying to keep suffering loses.

I looked at him, no longer taking no as an answer, “You owe me, Mister I went off to college while I got slut shamed for that video you put out. It only stopped because my mom died.”

His head dropped and his forehead was against my skin as he mumbled, “I told you I took care of that. That was so long ago.”

I kissed his chest slowly, almost begging him, “Besides you can’t be the only guy in the frat not getting any.”

P R E S E N T

Dylan crawled onto the bed getting comfortable between my legs kissing me again. Enough to make my head-spin. When I felt his hand touch my panties and I jumped a little, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.”

He took my hand and placed my own hand on his hand on, allowing me to explore himself. “You haven’t explored. The last two times was just straight sex. I want you to see what I’m gonna put between your legs.”

I unzipped the zipper on his pants and undid the belt, gently and slowly, pulling his underwear down letting his cock fall out. I looked up and he was biting his lip as he watched.

Stroking it a few times watching his face turn from pleasure to ecstasy as I lowered my lips to the tip of him. Pushing my lips down I felt his thickness bully my mouth into opening wider.

He was trying not to moan too much when I glanced up at his tortured features forcing him to bite his own lip.

“God I love your mouth but I don’t wanna cum yet,” his husky voice was out of breath when I felt his hands urge me to stand up. Dragging my panties down off my legs, his lips kissed my thighs, worshipping every inch of me.

“I found your spot. Right here.”

His lips kissed closer to my pussy, right inside my thigh when I felt the butterflies turn into paperweights inside of me.

“What are you doing?” I knew but I was sure I was comfortable with it.

Standing up he leaned over me, kissing my chest. “I was gonna lick your clit but if you aren’t comfortable I won’t.”

Every dirty word only made the mess between my legs worse. “I’m too wet…” I had no excuse that made sense when those words slipped from my mouth.

“Too wet?” He smirked in a devilish way, “I love how wet you get for me.”

Laying back, Dylan’s tongue slipped against my slip sending my head back and my back to curve. Suckling my clit, I couldn’t help but moan and my hips lost control even with his hands pinning me down.

Dylan pulled away just enough to pull his shirt off and push his pants the rest of the way down. Scooping my bra off I let him look me over. Our eyes met before we kissed again, something about him was innocent, pure like I could trust him.

He kept kissing me, crawling on the bed, as he settled between my legs. Pinning my knee to his hip he slipped the condom on himself. Hovering over me before I felt him push inside me, stretching and filling me so much I felt light headed.

He let out a deep relieving sound followed by a small fuck under his breath that I hung to. I was melting against him in every way. My eyes closed the whole time until he whispered, “Hey, you okay?”

Peeling my eyes open I whispered against his lips, “Is it always suppose to be like this?”

Dylan kept pushing, laughing and smirking, “Suppose to be… fuck… but we’re puzzles. Sometimes people don’t fit like us.”

I was shaking and I could feel it building inside me. “Dylan, I’m gonna cum omg.”

“Come for me, baby.”

I could feel him breathing heavily against me and my legs shaking as I came all over him. The second I felt his hand hold my hips down against his mattress he came inside me.

I could feel the warmth rush inside me, coating my walls and my lungs finally exhale. Dragging his lips against me as he showered me in his recovering breath.

The best moment was followed by a protective parent who never knocked because there was no reason to. My door creaked open while he looked down at his phone, “Hey, hon, you awake? I’m back.”

I was mortified beyond belief while my dad kept standing there staring at Dylan. “Dylan. Don’t you have work tomorrow? Are you prepared?”

Neither of us could move without being exposed. “Dad! Get out! Both naked!”

He slowly left with the door cracked like it would stop any funny business. Dylan died laughing, “Am I prepared?” He couldn’t help but crack up in-between words. “Your dad is funny.” He grabbed my hand, “Hey. You wanna come to set tomorrow? Keep me company between scenes?”

I smiled, smitten with him, “Sure, I’d love to. Stay the night? My bed is big enough. I’ll lock my door.”

He pulled on his boxer briefs and got comfortable stealing my remote for the tv. I laughed before sneaking down stairs to grab us snacks. My dad was in the kitchen, having take out, “Thanks for the warning kid.”

I bit down on my smile, embarrassed too, “I thought you had a meeting.”

He stood up, “Then it ended. He left already?”

I shook my head, “He’s gonna stay over. I’m gonna go with him tomorrow. He says it’s a big day.”

My dad looked through his bag handing me a copy of the episode script, “Sure are, it’s huge for him and the character. Emotional scenes. Don’t distract him. Give him the damn script. I know he isn’t ready.”

I was curious so I peaked before bringing the snacks back. He basically goes crazy in the show. I couldn’t imagine, he’s so funny and bright. I wasn’t even convinced he could be mean or crazy. I arrived back at my room with tons of snacks and handed him the script, “Did you read it?”

I shook my head getting comfy, “Seems intense. Nervous?”

He thumbed through the pages, “Nah. I got this. Just wanna be sure I hit my marks, I move around a lot and it annoys your Dad actually.”

I read the script dirtying down to a steamy scene, “Steamy. A sex scenes?”

He looked at it again, “That’s kissing. I told them no sex scenes. I refused.” After he had it in his hands he paced, reading to himself but making gestures like learning a dance.

It was almost ten PM so I put on Gilmore Girls, one of my favorite shows while he paced. Finally, fourth-five minuets later I offered to read with him. “Really? You would?”

I took the script from him, “Who am I reading? Lydia?”

[kamii-2]

I’m lowkey obsessed with the thought of the Curtis boys having a sister so here we go

Curtis sister /maybe younger than Ponyboy even???/ being supes distant to her brothers after their parents die, and is lowkey pissed at Darry whenever he tries to parent her, Sodapop and Ponyboy

hi anon!! hopefully you like this fic (i’m so sorry if it’s short)

warnings: cussing, yelling, mentions of death

pairings: curtis siblings

genre: angst

not proofread 😲

curtis sisters name is nova and sodas twin but she didn’t drop out of school

==================================

it was currently 5:14 pm, nova was laying on her bed and reading. darry wasn’t home and pony and soda were in the living room watching TV and talking. everytime darry wasn’t home she took advantage of that time because she knows the moment he gets there, he will make her clean and do her homework. recently she has gotten very annoyed with darry and his yelling, she’s at her breaking point. nova has a feeling that if he yells at her one more time, she will break.

—

when darry got home he told pony and nova to do their homework, nova was already tired of him and he’s been home for 3 minutes. “why, it’s literally friday and it’s not due till monday.” nova questioned in an annoyed tone, “because i said so,” darry answered while walking out of her room. nova sighed and continued to read her book.

—

it had been about 20 minutes since darry last came in her room and nova was still reading, she knew that darry was gonna be mad but she didn’t care. he’s not her dad so why should she listen to him? the house was semi quiet so nova assumed that darry was reading the newspaper and pony was doing his homework still or watching tv with soda. while nova was thinking about her family, darry suddenly walked in.

“did you finish your homework?” darry asked her while standing in the doorway, “no” nova replied while sitting up on her bed. “why?!” darry said slightly raising his voice, nova was at her breaking point, she knew that if darry yelled, she will yell back. “because i don’t want to.” nova replied calmly. “nova, if i tell you to do something then do it when i tell you to.” darry yelled at her, “you’re not dad so i don’t fucking have to.” nova yelled back while going last darry and walking out of her room.

“don’t walk away from me when i’m talking to you.” darry angrily said as he followed behind her, “you’re not my parents so i’m not listening to you,” nova said as she went to sit on the living room couch, she didn’t want to be in her room anymore. “wait what’s going on?” soda interrogated, him and pony were both sitting on the couch watching tv but now their focus was on nova and darry. before she could answer darry started to yell at her again, “ever since mom and dad died you’ve been really distant. what happened to when you were always hanging out with us snd were always happy?”

darry’s last sentence really pissed nova off, “you happened, all you ever do is yell at us like we’re maids or something. it’s getting really old darry, nobody wants to sit here and get yelled at all the time. how would you like if someone yelled at you every day? huh? you wouldn’t like it so stop fucking doing it to us.” nova yelled back as she grabbed her shoes that were on the floor and booked it out the house.

she could hear one of them trying to catch up to her but she just went faster and turned some corners so they lost her. nova did regret her decision to run away with absolutely nothing, she figured out she could go to some friends for help.

==================================

sorry for this story taking so long to come out but i hope you like it even though it’s very short, anyway hope you have a good day/night, love you all 💋

[pumpkinsy0]

We need us some cowboy pony au hcs 😛🫶

yknow what i was focusing more on the shepards for this au but this is a great opportunity to focus more on pony and the gang😭😭

•the curtis bros’ guns r from their dad, all 3 of em have a different gun that they etched stuff on so they know its theirs

•instead of the gang being one big happy family before their parents died, it only happened after, the curtis parents didnt meet ANY of the gang</33. INSTEAD its like they travel, find someone and boom theyre in the gang!! in the order of who joined first, it was steve and johnny, then two, then dally!!

•the curtis bros turned into criminals bc their parents died and they couldnt afford to live in their house so they were kicked out and now theyre robbing for money!!! but theyre known for being more “gentlemanly” about it and thats how word started spreading about them

��angela is quite literally THEE only girl they got w em, everyone is protective of her in one way or another, especially cause hey, its the south and shes black, gotta look out for her🙏🏽

•pony somewhat romanticizes???? curly in his stories where he was talking about him fighting on ships, w all the sword fighting n what not

•ponys aim is REALLY good, its the best in the gang actually!! the gang will always make him shoot bottles n stuff as entertainment, during hunts for food pony has to go w em

•everyone in the curtis gang has their nickname when their off robbing, none of the public know their names (well they only knows dallys real name he made sure loud n clear that ppl knew his name)

•curly has to borrow a LOT of the gangs clothes until they find him some, tim also needs to but his main focus is curly when it comes to sharing that

•pony and curly have a game where they try to throw ponys lasso onto the other to cath them and then they pull em in, MAYYYYbe kiss a lil when they rope them in, at some point they stopped trying hard to get caught

•curly does the thing where he takes ponys hat to cover their face and kiss, if they get caught they just saw they were telling secrets

•the shepards arent part of their gang btw!! yes theyre w them but rlly its just for right now, at some point tim wants to go and live his own life w angela and curly to start their own life, or gang, or whatever else pops up, think of em as honorary members!!!

•let them share songs from their gang!! curly teaches pony pirate jingles and pony teaches curly songs his gang just came up w for funsies

•ik they all fought over where the shepards were sleeping when they first arrived, but they all agreed that pony gotta give up his tent and sleep w soda to give it to em

•there rlly is no hierarchy amongst the curtis gang, they all just do what they do and some r more important to some situations than others!! took a while for the shepards to find out what they can do, but so far fishing has been their strong suit, plus they introduced the gang to different foods and lord knows the curtis gang wanted that omg if they had soup or beans one more time they would kill themselves

•curlys not allowed onto most robberies, like i said before curly yearnnssss to b back in action and fighting, and that could get them in unnecessary trouble, plus tims whole reason of y they moved to the us was to get away from fighting. they brought him along once and they didnt like how it played out, so most likely, never again!!!

[gergthecat]

Shatter - Ponyboy POV

Soda handed me my Pepsi right as she walked in, the bell in front of the gas station door dinging gently. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The shock of seeing Cherry Valance in the Greasers’ gas station was quickly joined by embarrassment, however, as I dropped my Pepsi on the grimy tile. The glass bottle shattered on impact, flinging piercing glass shards like shrapnel and lukewarm Pepsi onto my shoes and legs. My horror doubled when Cherry materialized by my side, kicking the glass fractures with her black and white saddle shoes as she examined the pieces that had sliced through my jeans. She looked up at my eyes. It’d been about a year since I’d last seen her, just before Johnny died, and I’d grown quite a bit. Johnny’s name further soured my mood; we hadn’t really talked about him much since he died. I guess it just hurt. Darry said I’d been filling out my clothes nicely, and now Sodapop and I could share without his shirts hanging off me like a blanket. I’d done more fighting, too, and my arms and legs had swelled considerably. Darry said I looked like a real man, just like him. 

“Oh hell, Pony! Gee, I’m sorry,” Soda said, dragging me out of my thoughts. He reached back behind him without looking, grabbed the washcloth he used to wipe the counters down, and handed it to me. I took it tentatively; Cherry was still looking at my legs.

“Cherry,” I started, not quite sure what to say to her. “Uhm… It’s good to see you again.”

“Gosh, Ponyboy, not now. Oh gosh, you’re bleeding!” She squealed, her fingers grazed where my jeans had begun to be soaked with blood, seeping warmly down my legs. I could feel it. The thought of blood running down my body quickly overtook my mind as the image of Dally falling to the ground appeared in front of me. It had been plaguing me ever since the night that it happened, and once again, I was wrenched from my conscience by Soda, this time asking me if I thought it was bad. Cherry looked up at him, somewhat annoyedly, and told me, “Ponyboy, you can’t walk like this. Please let me help you,” almost as if she knew that I was hesitant about having to talk to her again. With a sigh of reluctance, I slowly sat down, leaned against the counter, and pulled both my pant legs up as Cherry began to tug on the pieces of glass stuck in my shins. It hurt like hell. Soda had to leave after a while because he couldn’t handle watching the blood-covered glass pile that Cherry had formulated over the time we had been there. We were both pretty quiet, aside from the occasional “ouch” from me and “got it” from her; neither of us said anything. I think we were both so unsure of what the other was thinking that we spent more time wondering than actually finding out. I think that’s what happens a lot in our world. 

Eventually, between tugs on a particularly difficult splinter, it struck me to assert, “Y’know, you don’t have to do this. Two-Bit’s pretty good with his hands; I’m sure he could do it for me when he gets home from work.”

She only chuckled and got back to digging in my calf. She looked like she was thinking of something serious—the sort of look that Darry got whenever he was reminded of something funny Johnny did—and started chewing her lip. I watched her more closely, hoping she’d say something instead of just picking at my leg, and as if I had summoned it, a confession started out of her. She began with a sigh, “My dad’s gone,” she paused as I looked up from my leg. “He’s not dead,” she clarified, “He left.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, not quite sure why she was telling me, but at least grateful that she was talking.

“Don’t be. I never liked him. I know it’s weird for me to be here, hah; I mean, I’m pulling glass out of your legs, for God’s sake. But it’s ‘cause, well, I’m experienced. What I’m trying to say is that my dad, he—he wasn’t nice. He used to get drunk all the time—I guess he probably still does, I don’t know, I haven’t seen him—but whenever he was, he’d be just awful. It was weird. When he wasn’t drunk, he was totally fine, your average father; I wouldn’t say he was good or bad—if I only knew him back then. I remember when I was younger—when all of us were younger, I have two brothers—he was great, even. He cared about us; he used to take us to the playground all the time. But then, well, I’m not sure what happened; Mom says he got involved with the wrong people—he used to work at a law office, but he quit after a while—but, ugh,  I don’t know. I don’t know.”

She had gotten frustrated; I could tell from how her left hand gripped my ankle, and after a moment, I understood why. 

“I don’t know what I’m saying. He used to hit us when he was drunk. All sorts of cruel things, really, he’d do to us. He once threw a bottle at my baby brother; he was only seven or eight back then, and cut his face. Charlie—he was so embarrassed about the scar that he started skipping school. I mean, he was eight! That’s ridiculous, but he did it anyway. Dad got so mad at him that night.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Anyway, Mom finally got rid of him after he started doing drugs; her family has money, so we’re okay, but still. It’s just hard to think about. It’s hard to understand, really. Nobody at school knows either. I think they’d be shocked. I don’t really care what they think; I don’t care about him.” Then, she pulled the hem of her shirt up to just below her ribs to reveal four scars slashed across her stomach. “He used to throw beer bottles at us all the time,” is all Cherry said before she dropped her shirt and called Soda to get a broom for the glass. 

My legs were still bleeding a bit, dripping onto the tile floor of the gas station, so I really couldn’t do much besides sit there and think about what Cherry had told me. She said nobody knew. Did that include Bob? I never got to find out. I thought a lot about a lot on that crusty floor. I’d begun to sweat, so I took my shirt off, using it to mop up some of the blood splatters and Pepsi on the floor and my legs. I wondered why the fuzz hadn’t busted her dad, why he wasn’t in the cooler yet. Surely, in a family of Socs, it mattered more. That’s when I remembered what Cherry had told me back at that old drive-in. Things are rough all over. 

I guess I must’ve been sitting there too long because Darry came storming in. The sun shining through the clear glass door gave him a weird shadow as Soda and I looked at him. I looked up at him, and boy, he looked mad. He looked down at my legs, and his face changed in an instant. “Ponyboy…Jesus, you sared me stiff. What happened?”

“I’m fine, it was just some glass; Cherry fixed me up,” I assured him. By then, she’d gotten what she needed from the gas station, so she gave Darry a polite smile and walked out. Darry walked with me as I limped back home—and he bought me a new Pepsi. That afternoon was the last time I ever saw Cherry Valance, but I imagine now that she’s doing something pretty tuff. Maybe someday I’ll find out what.

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