#those boys are. so sweet

[ctrlzxoo]

ivan and till have their first kiss, an alternate ending 💕

please look at this comic for context and Part 1!

[slothxio]

Mr. Jayce “I love my wives” Talis

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"Can you hold still?" Soda leans over Darry's stomach, puttin' his full weight into it, and Darry laughs. Soda shoots him an agitated little frown he doesn't mean at all and jabs him matter of factly in the stomach. "It's star day this is important."

Darry rolls his eyes but settles back down. "I can't help it." Soda leans sits back, spins the marker in his hand over his fingers. "I'm ticklish."

"Well, figure it out or I'm gonna sic Pony on you." Darry tips his head back 'n looks at Pony upside down. His youngest brother pulls out a more than passin' imitation of the Darry's glare. Though, he should be good at it. He's seen it nearly every day. Darry reaches up 'n baps him on the head 'n Pony cracks 'n laughs.

He's layin' on his back on the living room floor, Soda at his side and head restin' in Pony's lap. Soda brings the marker back against Darry's ribs and he does his best not to laugh. He only half succeeds until he glances down at Soda's tongue bit between his teeth 'n the furrowed brow he only gets when he's focusin'. It's not funny but glory he looks so much like when he was six 'n drawin' horses at the kitchen table with the concentration of Michael Angelo, Darry can't help but snort.

"Darry!" Soda opens his mouth in mock frustration 'n that just makes Darry laugh harder. "That's it. Pony. Sic 'em."

"Wait-!" Pony worms his hand down before Darry can bat it away 'n jabs him in the ribs. "OW! That's it, you're cut off." He fights to sit up but Soda 'n Pony both jump down on him, howlin' with laughter.

"Nuh uh, mister! I'm not done!" Pony presses both his palms down on Darry's shoulders 'n Darry humors him by pretendin' that it makes any difference in him gettin' up or not.

Soda puts his marker back down 'n Darry valently bites his lip 'n doesn't even squirm. He lasts forty-five seconds. "Soda-"

"Finished!" Soda presses the cap back on 'n tosses it to Pony who snatches it out of the air.

"Can I see?" Soda studies Darry's torso for a second 'n then nods happily. Darry grabs the shavin' mirror Soda offers him 'n admires the nonsensical lines connectin' the freckles dottin' his body from his stomach up to his neck. The ones all the Curtis' only got in summer. He smiles, runs a finger along the ink fondly. "Damn Soda! You went all out this year, huh! Care to, uh, explain?"

Soda grins at Pony and points to six freckles on his side. Darry tilts his head 'n furrows his brow. "One guess on this one." Oh, well that narrowed it down.

"That one Pony's?"

"Ding ding ding!" Whenever Soda drew constellations he always managed one for Pony, a horse, 'n one for himself, a pop bottle. If Darry squinted he could see it. He could also see a dog, cat, 'n just about any four-legged animal with a tail but he would keep that to himself.

"Where's yours, Soda?" Soda points to a sort of temple that started on his collarbone 'n ended on his shoulder. It takes Darry a moment longer but he can pick out the vague shape of the bottle.

"Alright, now the rest of 'em." Soda carefully explains each one, two more horses, naturally, a fish, Orion's belt, a wonky set of three dots along a rib, a lasso, 'n two little smilies. Darry carefully traces each one, more than a little impressed by how his brothers could take a handful of random dots 'n find so many little pictures.

"My turn!" Pony jabbed Darry in the side 'n took his place on the floor. He slaps nearly every pocket before he refinds the marker, handin' it over to Darry with a mischievous lil' grin to Soda.

He pulls his t-shirt straight over his head even though most of his freckles are clustered on his arms 'n face. He never picked up his brother's tendency to walk around all summer in no shirt. Dallas always made teased him for that. Glory, Pony's playin' modest 'n makin' the rest of us look like whores. 'N Two would always howl well if the shoe fits! 'N then duck out of Dallas' grip fast as he could. Only Soda 'n Darry knew the real reason. The kid didn't tan one bit. No siree, Pony burned.

He lays flat on the floor, eyes closed, Soda playin' with hair idly. Darry picks up Pony's arm 'n twists it, lookin' for anythin' that sticks out to him. Darry always did Pony's. Pony enjoyed just layin' there 'n Darry needed more time to study where the dots could become shapes. Pony would do Soda's since, out of all of them, the kid had an imagination that could spin 'n spin 'n spit out ideas 'n drawin's n' stories the fastest. 'N Soda had an incredibly short patience for not movin'.

"Hey, look." Soda brushes back Pony's bangs 'n gently traces a jagged line across his forehead. "Hand me that." Before Pony can swat his hand away Soda's connected the freckles from one temple to the other so they form a mountain range across his skin.

"Our little prince, huh." Pony opens one eye 'n glares down at Darry but his oldest brother is just lookin' at him with that fond little smile he gets.

"Oh c'mon." He wriggles around on the carpet 'n gets nothin' for his troubles but rugburn. "Hurry uppppp."

"You sound like me now, Pone." Soda ruffles his hair 'n Pony reaches up blindly with his free arm to swing at him.

"Well, maybe I'd be done faster if you'd stop wigglin'." They drift into a soft silence, Soda standin' up halfway through to cue up the Beatles' latest record, The White Album, which had been a joint birthday gift for Darry last month. Half of the gift had been them toleratin' Darry's affinity for that McCartney kid's weepy grandma songs.

"Alright, I think I'm done." Pony jolts up, grinnin' down at his arms.

"Lemme see, lemme see." Darry twists the mirror around so he can see the back of his biceps, pointin' out what was what.

"Look, this is Soda's." Darry's linked four freckles into an elongated diamond 'n penned in DX. Soda cracks up, twistin' Pony's arms so he can see better 'n forgettin' it's attached to the kid.

"You're a walkin' ad, kid! They should hire you!" Pony snatches his arm back 'n wrinkles his nose up.

"'N work with Steve? Yeah, hard pass." Soda howls 'n Pony tries 'n fails to look put out.

"Hey, this must be yours, Dar." Soda positions the mirror so Pony can better see the lopsided Superman logo on the back of his shoulder.

"Yup, but this one's my favorite." Down the hollow of Pony's throat 'n up under his jaw are three little stick figures all facin' different directions.

"Hey! That's us, right?" Darry ruffles his hair and drops a kiss to the freckle on his temple that makes up the end of his crown.

"Yup," He shoots Soda a grin 'n wiggles his eyebrows conspiratorially, "the shrimpy one is you."

"They're sticks! They all look the same!" Soda grabs him by the chin so he can get a better look.

"Nope, Darry's right." He nods solemnly. "The good lookin' on is me." Pony shoves him off 'n he lands on his ass. Darry hoots a laugh 'n manhandles Soda so his head is restin' on Darry's knee.

"See, Soda gets my creative vision." Soda peeks up at him, upside down, 'n cackles.

"Oh shut up." Pony snatches the marker from Darry 'n instantly goes to work. Soda starts squirmin' less than a minute in 'n Darry leans over 'n flips the TV on, an episode of Scooby-Doo is playin' 'n Soda grins 'n crains his neck to watch.

"You got our north star this year, Pepsi." Darry taps Soda on the tip of his nose where one single fair freckle stands out against his tan skin.

"No kiddin'? Pony's had it the last three years, the hog." Pony sticks his tongue out 'n goes back to drawin'.

The episode's not even half over before Pony nods, self-satisfied. "Alright, c'mere."

"Oh my God, Pony, why do we even try?" Pony's blushes, the tips of his ears goin' red.

"They're just doodles."

"Do I need to bring up Soda's horse?"

"Hey-!"

Pony's joined vast groups of freckles into three distinct shapes across Soda's chest 'n stomach. A horse, that looks far more identifiable than Soda's drawin', across his side, a record 'n the player on Soda's left ribs, a map of some of the actual constellations Pony would drag them outside on clear nights to point out over Soda's heart. Darry can pick out the big dipper, one of the triangles, 'n the bear.

"Wait, this one's my favorite." He points to two little hearts on each side of Soda's face made from four little freckles each.

Soda twists this way 'n that gigglin' between the horse 'n the freckles. "God, Pone, you missed your callin' as an artist."

"Damn straight!" Darry laughs 'n pulls both his kid brothers in tight for a hug. Pony whines but buries his head in Darry's chest beside Soda. "Well, I dunno about y'all but I'm hungry after all that."

Soda whoops already clamberin' off the floor 'n divin' for the keys before Darry can get to them. "Dairy Queen!"

Pony throws his shirt back on, carefully rollin' up the sleeves so Darry's Superman logo can still be seen. Darry reaches over 'n pulls him in for another hug.

"You sure you don't wanna wipe any of that off?" Pony gestures to the mess of marker 'n Darry laughs, brushin' Pony's hair back.

Soda's already climbed in the truck, shirt still off 'n Pony's drawin's on full display.

"Hell no! I got stars to show off."

[smokbeast]

finally..unhinged sun real…

[tommygotwrittenoff]

bobby says to eddie one shift where buck is home sick with chris. going home to see your boys? eddie smiles and says. yeah. and your boys just Sticks in eddies brain and when he gets home he sees chris and buck curled up on the couch asleep and the sight makes him pause cuz. yeah. those are his boys

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Kenzaki rolling up in Zi-O looking like he's been lying face down in the toku quarry for ten something years just letting current series film stunts over him...

[waitineedaname]

okay I've finished making my big spreadsheet of how mp100 characters refer to each other! some thoughts on this under the cut because it got long

the Kageyama brothers are very polite in how they refer to people. their parents must have really instilled etiquette into them bc no one else is as consistent about using polite honorifics/titles as they are. the only people Mob doesn't give an honorific/title are his brother and Dimple, and the only people Ritsu doesn't give an honorific are Dimple and Shou, who he just calls "Suzuki"

Reigen, on the other hand, is pretty inconsistent and casual with his use of honorifics. he says "Mob-kun" a couple times and "Ritsu-kun" once, but usually they're just Mob and Ritsu (or "Mob's brother" lmao). the only honorific he consistently uses is "Tome-chan"

it's infrequent, but both Reigen and Dimple refer to Mob as "my boy" at some point :') he's their boy!

Ritsu doesn't refer to the Awakening Lab kids at all until he asks their names after being kidnapped lmao the only exception is when he calls out to the older Shiratori brother after the younger one is taken away and he calls him "Shiratori-kun." considering the fact that after asking their names, he refers to both of them as Daichi-kun and Kaito-kun, I think there was absolutely a moment when everyone was freaking out about the Shiratori brothers where he was like "ohhhhh that's his name"

also he switches from "Onigawara-san" to "Onigawara-senpai" when he realizes he's friends with his brother lmao fakeass

even though Mob starts calling Teru "Hanazawa-kun" as soon as they exchange names, Teru doesn't give him the honorific until they decide to raid Claw together. I guess that's the point when he decides they're friendly enough for it? he calls Ritsu "brother-kun" as soon as he realizes they're related and never refers to him by his actual name

everyone calls Teru some variation on his nickname EXCEPT Mob and Dimple. Dimple actually only calls him "brat" and "that guy" for a while until he managed to track him down again during the alleyway incident, which I realized is because he was exorcised before learning Teru's name lskdjflkdsf from the Seventh Division arc onwards, he just calls him "Hanazawa"

I love that Dimple tries to refer to the brothers with cutesy nicknames and both of them are like "if you do that again I'm killing you all the way dead" and he's like "understood." and then refers to them by given name from then on lmao

Teru refers to Dimple as "Dimple-kun" and Tome calls him "Dimple-chan," both of which are SO funny to me because he's way older than them. rude as hell, this evil spirit deserves no respect

Shou doesn't use honorifics or titles for ANYONE. Ritsu is just Ritsu, the Ultimate 5 are all their last names, his dad is just Pops. he also exclusively refers to Mob as "Ritsu's brother" dkfjldskfj

Serizawa alternates between "Shigeo-kun" and "Kageyama-kun" with no real rhyme or reason to it. just seems to depend on his mood I guess

[lilliferwashere]

TW: some blood

From ch 51 of Keys are people too. I don't think it's too bad, but I'm hiding it under the cut to be safe.

THIS ONE ISN'T COZY IM SORRY

Link to the more graphic drawings, if anyone is so inclined.

These ones are graphic, just fyi.

TW: BLOOD (seriously)

https://lilliferwashere.tumblr.com/private/768891213248102400/tumblr_uTDUrOm8GHmrxwMwF

[kendyroy]

i’ve always wondered what worst logan thinks of main logan. is he jealous at all of how revered he was? i mean what do you even think of the guy that’s considered the ��best version” of you when you’re seen as the worst.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Instruction on Courtship

[First] Prev <--> Next

[ratatatastic]

you know i didnt think i needed stolie benny and matthew with their arms all over each other singing and swaying along to music as they sip on beers but shame on me i shouldve known i needed it

WPLG Local 10 | 6.25.24 (x)

[sdrose93]

Pete Mitchell 😍❤

[hooked-on-elvis]

July 1970. Elvis Presley during rehearsals at MGM's Studios in Culver City, CA. "Elvis: That's The Way It Is"

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

PLEASE write some stevepop where soda sees steve maybe defending or secretly being kind to ponyboy!

i love steve and ponyboys friendship

AGHH the scream I screamt when I got this request ABSOLUTELY! Adore these boys I am HAPPY to provide! fic under the cut!

"Ponyboy get your ass out here or I'm leavin' you!" Steve slams on the horn 'n Darry appears in the kitchen window to shake his head firmly. Ah, it was seven thirty in the mornin'. Steve had forgotten. Pony ducks past the open screen door to flip him off 'n Steve has to fight the urge to throw the door open 'n drag the kid out by his hair.

"I'm gonna kill that kid. I swear to God." Steve hmphs, kicks a foot on the dash.

Soda leans through the rolled down window 'n chuckles to himself. "Glory, Steve, ain't there bigger things in the world to be mad at? The injustices 'n all are a tad more serious then a bitchy kid brother, dig?" Soda snorts 'n Steve rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, well, the injustices aren't about to make me fuckin' late!" Steve hollers 'n Pony makes an indignant noise from somewhere in the house. Soda cracks up. "You comin' to school today?"

Soda tilts his head to the side, opens his mouth but before he can say anythin' Darry cuts in from the porch, "He better be takin' his lil' ass or I'm gonna bust it." Soda hoots a laugh 'n wiggles his hips from where he's bent down to talk to Steve from outside the car.

"Well, I think the decision's been made for the safety of both me 'n my ass." Darry rolls his eyes, grabs Soda by the back of the shirt 'n hoists him up, plantin' a kiss to the top of his ruthlessly messy waves. He releases him 'n turns to climb into his truck.

He's halfway in when he stops 'n turns. "Pony come out yet?"

"Fuckin' no-" The screen door slams 'n Pony leaps off the stairs, hair ungreased 'n curlin' around his eyes, backpack slung over one shoulder 'n unzipped, a piece of burnt toast bit between his teeth.

He skids to a stop to let Darry drop a kiss to his temple 'n then whack him one up the back of his head. He whines wordlessly, mostly 'cause if he tried to speak he'd lose his breakfast, 'n rips open the back door to Steve's beater, crawlin' into the back seat.

"If you get crumbs in my car I'm gonna kick your ass." Steve twists around 'n Pony takes his toast from his mouth just to stick his tongue out.

Soda takes one good leap 'n slides across the roof of the beater to get to the passenger side, slammin' the door shut 'n kickin' his feet up on the dash. He idly flips the radio station until Jimmy Gilmer and The Fireballs Sugar Shack starts playin' 'n he grins 'n cranks the volume.

Pony groans 'n leans over the seat to change it 'n Steve puts an elbow up 'n shoves him back into his seat. "Shotgun picks the music 'n last time I checked you weren't even in the front, brat."

Pony narrows his eyes, scowls, 'n breaks off the crumbliest end of the bread, grindin' it into Steve's carpet where he can't see. "You don't even like this song!"

Soda twists around, throws a hand out the window, grins with his whole mouth. "Nuh uh, Pone. This is Stevie's favorite song. Know why?" Pony stops scowlin' just long enough to look confused.

"Why?"

"'Cause it's mine 'n Steve loves to please- OW!" Steve howls 'n jabs Soda in the ribs. Soda jumps, whoops 'n scrambles to the side to avoid Steve's fingers. Pony groans theatrically 'n drops his head to the window.

A horn blares 'n all three of them look up 'n realize their still blockin' Darry in the driveway. Darry leans out the window with an exasperated sigh, "Steven Thomas, I thought you were so worried about bein' late!"

...

Steve rolls into the parkin' lot goin' so fast he nearly spins out, throwin' the car into the first empty spot he finds. The clock on the dash reads seven fifty- already twenty minutes late.

"Pony move your ass." Steve snatches the keys from the ignition, spinnin' to grab his bag from the back. Pony flips him off again but wiggles out, draggin' his stuff across the seat. Soda jumps out, not even a pencil on his person.

Once they're out of the car, however, none of them hustle across the lot. It was the principle. You couldn't look too eager headed into a school buildin'. They had a rep to protect.

"C'mon." Soda leans around the corner when they get to the top of the steps, watchin' for the lady at the front to turn her back. "Pony go." Pony skids through the door, squats down low under the desk 'n tries to slip by.

So, of course, the woman takes that exact moment to look up.

"Excuse me, young man, you're late. Do you have a note or a parent with you?" Pony freezes like a deer in the headlights 'n both Soda 'n Steve groan.

"Uh-"

"Sorry, Mrs. Baker." Steve doesn't stop to think, just hoists his bag up on his shoulder 'n strolls over to grab Pony by the shoulder. "I gave him a ride today. Him 'n Soda. Sodapop Curtis, that is." He turns around to jerk his head at Soda. Pony looks back at him, frown lines of confusion knittin' between his brow.

"Ok." The woman folds long fingers together 'n looks at him expectantly. "Do you have a note?'

"Naw, I'm just sayin' it ain't their faults. I was-" He grits his teeth together, digs his fingers into Pony's shoulder, "runnin' a little late today. My fault. Traffic was a real bit- uh mess." He offers his best charmin' smile 'n wishes he had Soda's stupid big eyes 'n innocent long lashes that could let him blink his way outta anythin'. Maybe he shoulda thrown Soda under the bus. She raises one thin eyebrow but sighs.

"Well, alright then. I'll write them passes. You, however, will have to get a mark on your record." Steve does his best to look apologetic, waits 'til she turns, 'n flips her off. Soda snorts 'n tries to, poorly, hide it behind a cough. The woman glances over her shoulder 'n Soda lets his dimple show.

He definitely should have let him take the fall.

She tears two slips off a pad 'n hands them across to Pony 'n Soda. Soda shoots him a little apologetic grin 'n Pony begrudgingly mutters his thanks. Steve flicks him in the forehead 'n before Pony can open his mouth 'n say somethin' smart, Soda grabs him 'n pulls him along.

"Name?" Steve frowns, watches as Soda 'n Pony horse around, splittin' at the end of the hall to go to their respective classes. Steve has a sudden pit in his stomach.

"Huh?"

"Your name, hon?"

"Sorry, uh, Randle. Steve." She makes quick work of the papers, handin' Steve over his own pass.

"Alright, Mr.Randle," Steve cringes internally but doesn't let it show, "get to class, now. 'N don't let me see you again, today."

...

Steve's supposed to be skippin' third period with Soda but the knucklehead hadn't shown where they had agreed. Steve had hung around the bleachers for as long as he dared before sighin', concedin' he wasn't gonna show.

He pushes off the rail he'd been leanin' on, debatin' his options. He could head straight out to the beater 'n call the day a wash, come back for Soda 'n Pony when school let out. But Pony, the little shit, was just as likely to tattle as he was to keep it to himself. Plus he was supposed to have fourth with Soda, assumin' he showed.

He hesitates a moment more, hedges his bets, 'n figures he might as well just head to class 'n beg off bein' late. His English teacher was a real doll, she might even turn a blind eye.

He slips the back door open 'n ducks his head through, lettin' his eyes adjust. The hall's deserted, though he can hear some kinda ruckus bein' kicked up somewhere nearby. Some real brawl by the sounds of it.

He creeps the rest of the way in, easin' the door shut. Steve turns the opposite way as the noise, figurin' they were bound to get busted 'n if he was anywhere nearby so would he. He's just creakin' the door to the stairs open, idly listenin' when he catches somethin' that makes his pulse rocket up.

"How do you like that, huh, Curtis?" Steve doesn't even bother to catch the slam the door makes as it shuts. He's movin' before he can think, down in the direction of the voice. Someone groans 'n Steve picks up the pace.

The voices sound too young to be Steve 'n Soda's age. Which really only left-

Steve rounds the corner fast, slidin' a little on the tile 'n the scene he comes up on has him clenchin' his fists so hard half moons carve into his palms. Oh, Jesus.

Here's the thing. Pony ain't half bad in a scrap. Somethin' about growin' up with two brothers 'n a house full of boys made you either sink or swim when it came to gettin' pounded. 'N maybe the boys currently beatin' the ever-lovin' hell outta the kid knew that. Considerin' it was five on one 'n Pony was still on his feet.

Steve doesn't hesitate. One of 'em has Pony's arms pinned behind his back, Pony writhin' 'n strugglin' for all he's worth, 'n another is sluggin' the hell out of him. Landin' sloppy, wide punches along the kid's ribs.

Pony groans at each one but nothin' more. God, maybe the kid was tougher than Steve gave him credit for. When he wasn't bein' a baby.

"Hey, asshole." Steve catches the wrist of the kid sluggin' Pony 'n for a second both of them just blink at Steve in surprise. "Leave my fuckin' kid brother alone, yeah?" Then Steve cracks his fist across the kid's face 'n he goes down, hard.

Pony wriggles out, immediately turns to swing on the boy behind him. Steve catches his shoulder, gives him a hard shove. "Beat it."

Pony freezes, chest heavin', blood tricklin' down his temple that makes Steve want to put whoever did that's head through a goddamn wall. "No!"

One of the others steps up, lands a punch under Steve's elbow 'n Steve jams his palm into the kid's nose. "I'm not havin' a fuckin' conversation go." Pony scowls 'n a kid goes to sock him one. Steve grabs him by the shirt front, easily sends him careenin' into the wall.

"Fine." Pony hesitates a moment more 'n Steve gives him another push. He whips around 'n vanishes down the hall 'n around the corner.

Steve's losin' track of who's who 'n where's what, throwin' punches 'n easily manhandlin' the younger boys steadily backward. "Look at the baby run!" Steve's vision goes red 'n he grabs the boy by the hair 'n slams his head into the goddamn lockers. Tears instantly spring to his eyes 'n Steve yanks him close.

"What are you gonna do? Cry?" He throws him down 'n the kid crawls back 'n away from him, runnin' a hand over his face.

Before he can go for him again, someone's got a hand around his wrist, jerkin' him backward. Fully on instinct, he swings around to slug them one before he realizes its a teacher.

He shakes his head to clear it, bares his teeth at the group of kids now clustered together. The fight's over now 'n it's fuckin' clear who won. But Steve can't help but dig his heels in 'n lean toward them again.

"If I ever hear about you goddamn punks layin' another finger on Ponyboy, you're not gonna be able to walk your pantywaist asses home to your mama's. Got it?"

The last thing he sees before he's dragged off to, presumably, the office, is the blood drain from their faces 'n the flash of a familiar form duckin' through the crowd.

...

Steve rubs a hand idly over his achin' knuckles 'n sighs. He was acutely familiar with the view from the hall outside the office. He'd spent enough hours there they should probably put his name on a seat permanently.

He can hear the Principal as he calls Darry, hell it's quiet enough he can hear Darry's irritation from behind the shut door. Steve sighs again, picks at his cuticles. There was a good chance Darry wouldn't be mad about this, considerin' the circumstances, but he'd be spittin' nails about it until he could get him the full story. 'N he wasn't particularly lookin' forward to it.

"Fancy meetin' you here, Randle." Steve jars 'n whips his head up, but it's just Soda. He plops down in the chair beside him, sprawlin' his legs out in front of him.

"Yeah, real rare sight." Steve scoffs, dryly.

"Heard you got into some fight, huh?" And here's the thing. Maybe, maybe, Steve gave a shit about the goddamn brat that was Ponyboy Michael Curtis. But he had no interest in admittin' that. Hell, he wouldn't even be tellin' Darry if he thought he could get around bein' whooped without it. So he's not real interested in tellin' Soda. No matter how stupid it probably sounds.

"Yeah. Somethin' like that." Soda rolls his eyes, produces a folded paper frog from somewhere 'n flicks it at the wall.

"Man, aren't you just Michelangelo this afternoon." Steve shoots him a confused look from the side of his eye 'n Soda huffs. "Full of words."

"You mean like, Alan Ginsberg or somethin'."

"I'll call ya Romeo if it means you spill what happened." Soda blinks his stupid big eyes at him 'n Steve feels his ears go red.

"Nothin' happened. Just a lil' scrap. Some assholes said the wrong thing 'n so I beat their asses. End of story. Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart." Steve ribs him back 'n Soda just giggles, the bastard.

"Yeah, didn't take you for a child beater, though." Soda cackles to himself 'n Steve shoves him hard in the shoulder. "I heard they were Pony's age." Somethin' in Soda's sharp eyes gives Steve the impression he knows more than he's lettin' on.

"Yeah, what about it? Do I need an age limit on lettin' someone be a dick?"

"Nah, I'm just sayin'. You know. Kids can be cruel. To each other." Steve narrows his eyes 'n Soda just grins. "All I'm sayin' is I saw Pony. 'N I was wonderin' if you had." Steve opens his mouth to answer 'n the door bangs open, the principal takin' a long stride out into the hall.

"Steven Randle?" He catches one look at Soda 'n his shoulders drop a little lower. Soda just beams at him. "Sodapop Curtis, what are you in my hall for?"

"Well, no reason. But now that we're all here I figure you'll wanna send me to the office for skippin'. Say, think you can get ol' Dar back on the phone or d'ya think twice in one day is excessive?"

...

Darry couldn't get off for the remainder of the day so the principal elected to let him stay in the office for the final period. Fourty-five minutes had never felt so long.

Steve was nearly tearin' his hair out by the final bell. He jumps up immediately, swingin' his bag over his shoulder 'n jettin' out to the parkin' lot. Pony's already there, leanin' against the car, dejectedly.

"Hey, Pone. You ok?" Steve goes to push his bangs back from the spot on his temple that had been bleedin' 'n Pony bats his hand angrily away. "Jesus, kid, what's the problem?"

"I don't wanna fuckin' talk about it." Steve feels a hot rush of anger slips through his veins 'n he clenches his fists.

"Fine. Whatever, kid. Get in the fuckin' car." He unlocks the door 'n Pony practically throws himself into the back seat with a huff.

Ohh, he was never goin' down for that kid ever again.

Soda comes bouncin' across the lot just as Steve's lightin' a kool, nearly snappin' the match in two with short, angry movements. "Well, hey good lookin'." Soda shoots him a questionin' look 'n Steve waves a hand dismissively.

"Hey, Pep. C'mon, let's go." He ducks into the driver's seat 'n Soda climbs into the shot gun. He twists to look at Pony, the backseat clouded up with Pony's own smoke.

"Hey, Pone, how was your day?" Pony scowls 'n shoots daggers at the back of Steve's head.

"Why don'cha ask him." Soda cranks the window down 'n sticks his head out.

"Well, glory, aren't the two of you just a blast."

...

Soda's got a shift down at the DX, a rare one Steve's not on. Though, he's got an inklin' that's on purpose. They had a habit of havin' too good of a time when they got shifts together. Though, it never stopped the one not workin' from boppin' on down to bug the other, work or no.

Steve floors it so he has time to take the back roads with the farms. Soda always loved to see the horses out in the field 'n Steve had no problem obligin' him. Usually, he would hit the hills goin' fast enough to make your stomach flip just so Pone could stick his stupid head out 'n whoop but he's sulkin' too hard to notice.

Whatever. Soda still points out each 'n every horse 'n that's good enough for Steve.

When they pull up to the DX Soda jumps out before the cars even come to a stop 'n Pony tries to slip out behind him. Steve slams a hand down on the lock 'n so Pony's just yankin' on the handle.

"C'mon Steve. Let me the hell out." Steve resolutely pretends he doesn't see him.

"See ya, Soda. D'ya want a ride home later?" Soda leans through the window again 'n snatches his DX shirt from the seat.

"Sure, Stevie." He raises his eyebrows 'n jerks his head at Pony, not subtly at all. "Assumin' you two haven't killed each other by this afternoon."

"I dunno. This afternoon ain't a lot of time to work with. Maybe tonight?" Pony scowls 'n Steve makes a face at him in the rearview mirror.

"Alright, you two. I'll catcha on the flip." Soda winks at Pony through the back window 'n Pony stops lookin' like the most put-out kid in the world to grin back at him. The second Soda's turned around Pony sinks back into his seat 'n goes back to poutin'. Good God.

Steve waits for the DX door to close behind Soda, 'n then he floors it again. "Where are we goin'?" Pony's sunk so low Steve has to stretch to see him in the mirror.

"Home, dumbass. You got some shit to say. Clearly." Pony hmphs but falls silent.

Darry's trucks not in the driveway when they pull up, to be expected. Pony snatches his stuff off the seat 'n marches inside without a word, slammin' the car door behind him. Steve has to force himself to take a long, slow breath to keep himself from finishin' the job those goddamn kids had started 'n cavin' in Pony's skull.

Glory, Darry must be wearin' off on him.

After a moment, he pulls the keys out of the ignition 'n trudges into the house behind Pony. When he gets through the front door, Ponyboy's already standin' in the livin' room, spine pulled taught, jaw all set like he's bracin' for a fight.

Steve has to fight the urge not to scoff at him. He's got a bandaid over his temple 'n bruises along his ribs that make him huff every time he moves 'n he thinks Steve is gonna square up with him. God. The kid was smart but he was also incredibly stupid sometimes.

"Well, c'mon. Out with it. What's with the attitude?" Pony bristles 'n scowls, clenchin' his fists up at his sides.

"I don't have a goddamn attitude."

"Yeah," Steve rolls his eyes 'n Pony makes a low, angry noise in the back of his throat. "Sure. None at all."

"Why can't you ever mind your own fuckin' business, Steve?"

"You are my business you fuckin' idiot." Steve can feel himself gettin' pissed off, he's clingin' to his patience by his fuckin' fingernails. "So this is what I get for stoppin' some assholes for stompin' you into the curb?"

"They weren't!" Pony explodes, stamps his foot so hard into the carpet the picture frames quake. "This may surprise you, Steve, but I can handle myself. I don't need you treatin' me like a goddamn kid."

For a moment, all Steve can do is blink at him. Then he feels the last shred of understandin' slip straight out of his head. "Pony are you stupid? You know what? Sure. You can handle yourself. Handle yourself so well you end up with a busted eye 'n a broken rib you idiot-"

"It wasn't that ba-"

"Sure!" Steve throws his hands up in exasperation. "It wasn't that bad. But it was about to be! Since when do you not want backup in a fight?"

"It's not that!" Pony's red in the face now, hair floppin' down in his eyes, knuckles white.

"So what the hell is-" Oh. Oh, alright. "Is this 'cause I didn't let you stay?"

Pony's wicked glare tells him all he needs to know. Glory God almighty.

"Pony. Look. I know you're smart. Give me one good reason why I wouldn't want you to stick around." Holy fuck, Darry really had been rubbin' off on him. He gives an involuntary shake.

"Because you're an asshole." And you know what? Darry was a fuckin' saint for not stranglin' the kid years ago.

"Yeah. A huge asshole who was coverin' for your ass. Pony think. If you had been there when that fight was busted up how the fuck do you think Darry would have reacted?"

Pony bites down hard on his lip. "I-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't start it. But you couldn't have gotten into it at all if you had been in class. Y'know. Where you were meant to be."

"I was just-"

"Yeah. Sure. Save the I was just goin' to the bathroom, I was just gettin' some water, I, I, I for Darry. You were skippin'."

For a moment, Pony just glares at him. "And you were just playin' hall monitor, right?" Pony mutters, but he doesn't sound mad anymore.

"Yeah, kid. Someone's gotta do a tour to make sure someone's not beatin' your head in." Pony rolls his eyes but Steve just grabs him by his shoulder 'n pulls him in. "Look. I know you can handle yourself, man. You don't need me or Soda or Darry intervenin' for your ass. But just humor me, alright? Im tryin' save us both some grief from the big man."

Pony scuffs his toe in the carpet, runs a hand up the back of his neck. "Yeah. Alright. Deal. But you can't tell Darry I was skippin'."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Tell you what. If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours."

Pony narrows his eyes, hesitates, 'n then drops his head against Steve's shoulder. "Deal."

...

"Stevie! Pony? Any bodies need to be buried?" Soda bounds in, screen door flappin' closed. He sticks his head into the dark living room.

Pony 'n Steve are curled up on the couch, Pony's head in Steve's lap, Steve absently rakin' a hand through Pony's dark hair. The second Soda appears, Steve jars Pony so hard he slides right off the couch 'n onto the floor with an indignant wail.

"Well, hello, you two." Darry follows Soda inside, droppin' his keys on the table with a heavy sigh.

"Soda! What are you doin' home?"

"Darry picked me up." Soda wiggles his eyebrows at Steve 'n Steve hurls a throw pillow at his head.

"Speak of the devil." Darry crosses into the living room, fixes Steve with a stern look. He glances down at Pony, double takes the bandaid, the way he's rubbin' at his ribs. Looks back at Steve's raw knuckles.

"Y'all got somethin' to say? I got a call about a fight." Pony twists to look up at Steve 'n Steve shoots him a little grin.

"Yeah. You know me, Dar. Can't keep me outta trouble." Darry puts a hand on his hip, looks between the two of them, his face softenin'.

"I do." He rolls his eyes 'n turns towards the kitchen. "Glory, I do."

Pony 'n Steve shoot each other a look, bite back on a laugh. "C'mon, you brat. I'm cold. Get up on this couch." Pony kicks him hard in the shin but clambers back up, leanin' his weight on Steve's shoulder 'n fixin' his eyes on the TV.

When Steve looks up again, Soda's watchin' him with a sly little grin. "Hey, Stevie?" He plops down on his other side, yankin' one of the blankets from the back of the sofa. "Pony should make us late more often. It sure puts you in a real sweet mood."

[leslutdepointedulac]

Everything that happens to Nicki and Lestat in the end is so much more painful and soul crushing when you remember they knew each other as children

[hobbithabits]

Am I gonna be able to find a fanfic of Data and Bashir sexing nasty style or am I just gonna have to make it myself