youllneverseeonascreen

[youllneverseeonascreen]

why’d they do this. btw. ????

[youllneverseeonascreen]

Darrel sr. : Ponyboy, What is that in your hand?

Pony, age 9 : *chucks it* A cigarette. I’m sorry dad I’ll stop smoking

Mr. Curtis: Pony, that was another Popsicle. I told you no more popsicles.

Mr. Curtis: …Why do you think a cigarette would be a better answer than a popsicle?

Source: reels

[youllneverseeonascreen]

"We need cash." Two, Soda, Steve, Dallas, Pony, 'n Johnny crowd the living room in a loose circle like mourners at a funeral. Between them, the shattered, stacked, 'n swept together corpse of what had once been their TV.

"We? Ain't my fault it's broken." Dallas kicks at a shard of glass 'n Pony narrows his eyes at him. "Blame it on the kid 'n call it a night."

"Hey!" Pony stomps a foot before he can catch himself, crosses his arms. "It wasn't me!"

Steve scoffs, rolls his eyes. Pony's face darkens murderously. "Was too."

"No, it was not! You were the one who fuckin' threw me!" Soda 'n Two's eyes ping pong back 'n fourth between the two of them.

"Did not! 'N if I did it was only 'cause you started the fight."

"Bullshit!" Pony's voice hits a shrill high note 'n Steve smirks at him, self-satisfied. "I only started it 'cause you were fuckin' callin' me names you asshole."

"Well, I wouldn't have been callin' you names if you hadn't been actin' like a brat." Pony lets out an indignant wail 'n Soda has to fly across the group to snag him by the waist so he doesn't start right back up again.

"Ok, ok. Enough you two." Pony writhes around like a fish on a hook for another moment before Soda jabs him in the ribs 'n he howls but stops fightin'. "This isn't solvin' our problems."

"I don't see how this is an us problem." Dallas tries again, hooks an arm around Johnny's shoulder 'n pulls him close. "I just got here, Johnny wasn't involved, 'n neither was Two. Soda bites the bullet for not stoppin' 'em 'n Darry can string the idiots up as he so pleases. What's the problem?"

Steve 'n Pony both turn on him, united for the first time that afternoon, fingers pointed 'n accusin'. "'Cause Two was bettin' on us-"

"Hey! Look, all's fair 'n love 'n war or whatever they say. Nobody asked ya to start rumblin' in the livin' room of all places."

"Yeah, 'n Darry'll love to hear that." Steve grabs his hip, wags a finger in a pretty damn passin' imitation of Darry. "Two-Bit Mathews you're how old now? Glory God almighty when are you gonna get any sense- OW!" Steve hollers at the comic Two's rolled up 'n thumped him over the head with.

"Ok, Ok fine. But I wasn't fuckin' bettin' against myself!" Two glares pointedly at Soda who rocks back 'n forth on his heels, suddenly findin' the floor real interestin'.

"Soda!" Steve stops nursin' his head to glare at Soda with wide eyes.

"Hey! Look! I'm sorry!" He blinks, tries his best tip-earnin' grin. "It was all on you, Stevie."

"SODA!" Pony whips on him quick as quick, quiverin' with as much indignance 'n outrage a fourteen-year-old can manage. Soda swallows back a snort, grabs Pony's face in his hands. "I'm sorry-"

"Well. Tough shit for y'all. But I don't see what this has to do with me or Johnny 'n I'm of the mind to beat it before Darry gets home 'n raises hell."

"Uh, Dal." Johnny clears his throat 'n tries to ignore the pointed stares of the rest of the gang hot on his face, runs a hand up the back of his neck, blows out a long breath. "IhadfiftycentsonPonyboy."

"Johnny!" Dallas drops him but doesn't sound half as annoyed as he does impressed.

"Well at least someone was in my corner-" Pony shoots Soda an aggravated glance 'n Soda throws his hands up placatingly.

"Yeah, speakin' of which." Two whips his hand out, palm up, 'n makes a grabbin' motion. Both Soda 'n Johnny huff but reach in their pockets 'n pull out quarters, dumpin' into Two's waitin' hands. He hoots his laughter 'n shoves the dollars' worth of change into his pants.

"Wait, who were you bettin' on Two?" Steve crosses his arms at the same time Pony plunks his hands on his hips, both glarin' accusingly.

"Me? I wasn't playin' for neither of ya! I bet y'all were gonna break somethin'!" Two cracks himself up, howlin'. It doesn't last for long 'n Pony 'n Steve turn succinctly on him, draggin' him down to the floor 'n landin' jabs wherever they can reach.

"Good lord. Well, y'all have fun with that one. I'm peelin' outta here."

"Oh no you don't." Soda catches one hand deftly in the collar of Dallas' jacket as he turns to leave, hefts him back. "You even think about wormin' outta this I'll tell Darry about that time you smoked all that pot 'n threw up 'n I had to carry a bowl a soup down to Buck's for your scrawny ass."

"Yeah, or that time you got picked up for shopliftin' 'n when the cops called I picked up the phone 'n never told Dar." Steve pauses in his onslaught of Two-Bit to throw his hat in the ring. The moment he's not focused Two wriggles out, flips him easily onto his back.

"Or that one time with Tim-"

"OK. Goddamn! No wonder Darry's goin' grey. Y'all are enough to send a man to an early grave." Dallas scowls 'n throw his hands up, shakin' Soda off. "So what now?"

"Now we need cash." Two says plaintively 'n they all stare down at the wreckage again.

"Ok. Thanks, genius." Steve rolls his eyes, clambers back to his feet, offers Pony his hand 'n hauls him up. "What are we lookin' at here? Like what? Twenty bucks?"

"Twenty bucks? Steve, what world do you live on where a TV is twenty goddamn bucks?" Dallas toes at the the box 'n it sparks. "Jesus Christ, none of you unplugged it? Hurry up 'n yank the plug out before we gotta by Dar a new house too."

Both Soda 'n Johnny dive for the cord 'n Johnny pulls up at the last second so they don't crack their heads together.

"So what, like fifty?" Pony 'n Soda exchange a glance, avert their eyes.

"Uh, try more like eighty, man." Soda plops down on his ass, looks desolately at the hunk of plastic 'n glass again.

"EIGHTY? Guys. We're dead. More than dead. Dar's gonna kill us, bury us, 'n then dig us back up again." Steve chews at his thumbnail, paces quick back 'n forth.

"Naw, Steve. Be realistic." Two grins, stuffs his hands into his pockets. "He'd never go through all that work for us. I think just killin' us the first time around'll do it."

Pony groans, presses both his palms into his eyes 'n collapses back into the armchair. "Not funny, Two."

"Aw, not even a lil-" He's cut off by the throw pillow Steve beams at his head, hittin' him square in the face.

"Man focus. We got cash, right?" Dallas refocuses the room, looks at them each in turn. The silence is answer enough, the celin', floor, 'n walls becomin' real fascinatin'. "Man, y'all've got to be jokin'. Steve, don't you have some money from the DX or your da put away?"

"Uh, well, no. Not really. Kinda, uh, lost it. All." He twiddles the bottom of his vest between his fingers, refuses to look up.

"Whatta ya mean lost it?"

"Look you lose one goddamn drag 'n suddenly everyone's crawlin' up your ass! How was I supposed to know that? 'N hey, what about you, Two? I don't hear you offerin' anythin' up."

"Ha! What money? I didn't have anythin' to start with don't look at me. Ask Soda, he's employed."

Soda throws his hands up guiltily. "Don't look over here. I got six bucks to my good name."

"Yeah, good 'n broke-" Soda pulls a face 'n kicks Dallas hard in the shin before he can duck outta the way.

"Where'd your paycheck go, Soda?" Johnny prods at him with his foot 'n Soda playfully catches it, yanks at him.

"Hey, I keep the lights on in this place!"

"And the rest of it?" Johnny pulls back 'n, when he realizes Soda ain't lettin' up, reaches down to jab at the ticklish spot on Soda's ribs.

"What? A man can't be afforded a lil' fun?" Soda yowls 'n drops his foot, wrigglin' backwards to get away. "How was I supposed to know a guitar was twenty-five bucks?"

"Soda!" Pony's jaw drops open. "You can't even play!"

"Hey! Yet! Gimme some credit! Plus I don't wanna hear anythin' from mister no job over there." Soda crosses his arms dramatically but he's grinnin' the whole way 'n all of them know he doesn't mean it.

"That ain't fair! Darry won't let me get a job. 'Course I don't got no goddamn money. Look at Dal. He's got a job!"

"First of all, I didn't even break the fuckin' TV. Second of all, how much money I got is none of your damn business." Dallas scowls, turns his nose up. Steve groans, drops down to the couch with his head in his hands.

"God so we're all broke."

"Hey-!"

"Shut up, Dal." Two cuts him off 'n Dallas' shifts his glare, damn near murderous. "Johnny Cakes?" He tries, weakly hopeful.

"Uh, I got three bucks." Soda quirks an eyebrow up 'n Johnny plops his hands on his hips.

"Where did you-"

"Ya gonna ask questions or are ya gonna take it?" Soda studies him for a moment, arms crossed still 'n doin' a cartoonish impression of a fussin' hen.

"Boys, we got a real hood among us here today." He hoots 'n Johnny kicks him in the hip, both of them still howlin'. "So that brings us up to, what?"

"Uh, nine bucks. Ten if someone can wrestle that change outta Two's pocket." Pony leans forward, elbows on his knees, 'n sizes Two up like he stood even a single chance.

"Man. I want lillies at my funeral. Can I put that out there? Should we do last rites now or-"

"Aw, hush up, Steve. Look, we just gotta scrape together a little money before Dar gets back. We can get, uh, what was it?" Soda frowns, counts absently on his fingers.

"Seventy more bucks." Pony dead pans 'n Soda's self-assured smile wavers a bit.

"C'mon, that's nothin'! We just gotta put our heads together." Soda climbs to his feet, rubs his hands together in thought. "How do we get our hands on some quick cash?"

Dallas 'n Two open their mouths 'n Soda throws out an accusin' finger to each of them. "'N nobody's doin' nothin' illegal 'cause if Dar has to pick one of us from the station before he comes home to no TV he's gonna start inventin' cruel 'n unusual punishments, y'hear?"

Dallas rolls his eyes 'n mutters 'n Two nods absently in agreement but they both don't offer any other ideas. "Anythin' else?"

"Uh, pawn shop?" Pony offers.

"Yeah, great idea, Pone. Anyone have any expensive jewelry they've been keepin' back?" Steve drawls, dryly, apparently resigned to his fate.

"Well, it ain't mine but I got, uh, a Singer we could sell." Dallas leans back in the doorway, waits for the onslaught of questions. They don't disappoint.

"A Singer? Dal, you've been watchin' me hafta hand hem 'n you had a Singer?" Soda howls, goes to kick him in the shin again but Dallas is prepared this time 'n dodges it.

"Where the hell did you get a Singer-?"

"Why-?"

"Look! It was Sylvie's, right? When I kicked her out she didn't get the chance to take it or nothin'. It ain't mine." He throws his hands up defensively, eyes Soda still standin' close enough to wallop him if he decided to. Soda glares back like he's still makin' up his mind about goin' for round two.

"Aw, man. We can't pawn off Sylvie's stuff." Johnny backs outta the way as Soda decides to give it another go 'n jabs at Dallas. "She mighta been a lil' mean but she don't deserve to have her shit sold off."

"The bitch- Soda get offa me- two-timed me? Remember?" Dallas knocks Soda's hands deftly away 'n Soda sneaks in on more solid kick before retreatin'.

"Oh, yeah." Johnny rocks back 'n forth on his heels, still clearly uncomfortable with the whole idea.

"Maybe Soda 'n Steve could pick up some extra shifts for a bit?" Pony tries again, clearly not as willin' as Steve to lie down 'n take his medicine.

"Yeah, another winner, Pone. 'N when Darry comes home to no TV tonight?" Steve scowls at him 'n Pony glares back, the two still dangerously close to another all-out scrap.

"Well, at least I'm comin' up with somethin'."

"Doesn't help if it's all stupid-"

"Alright you two, knock it off. We can't afford to have to buy anythin' else y'all broke 'cause y'all can't keep your traps shut." Two cuts in 'n they both round on him, glarin'.

"Look who's talkin'!" Steve mutters 'n Two grins 'n flips him off.

The laughter 'n bickerin' trail off, lapsin' into silence again. Each lookin' guiltily at the disaster, eyein' each other. "Well, uh, is anyone not above beggin'?" No one says anythin' 'n Two clicks his teeth, nods. "Yeah, didn't think so."

"Hey, guys." Six heads turn to look at Pony, suddenly ashen 'n lookin' past them up at the clock in the kitchen. "Is this a bad time to tell y'all Dar told me to tell y'all he'd be home early this afternoon?"

"Pony." Steve flies to his feet, grabs Pony by his shoulders. "How early?"

Somehow, Pony manages to pale even further. "Uh. In like. An hour?"

As if it had heard, the TV hisses, flashes, lets out one final death rattle 'n falls silent so it's just the seven of them, eyein' each other like men at the gallows.

"Dallas?" Johnny gives himself a shake, grabs his jacket from the back of the sofa.

"Yeah, man?"

"Let's get your girlfriend's stuff."

[youllneverseeonascreen]

also for any artists who may need it, the inside of Ponyboy's jean jacket is lined with black and red flannel!

[youllneverseeonascreen]

No I’m actually gonna cry What do you MEAN as of rn the closest show would be in Texas

[youllneverseeonascreen]

“paul is allergic to girls. hes allergic to cooties. thats why he only dates darrel.”

thanks barton (i thinkkkkk. it was him or cole i believe)

[youllneverseeonascreen]

pony whose wardrobe is 99% his brothers hand me downs u are so important to me

[youllneverseeonascreen]

🗣️✨Speak on it friend- who’s going and staying for both socs and the Curtis gang

people who stay: soda, two-bit, steve

people who go (although none of them end up doing that): darry, pony, johnny, dally

not doing the socs only bc. i have no idea. they have the money to come and go as they please, and the only ones i could say anything about are cherry, paul, and maybe marcia. all of whom i think i'm too biased bc i'd want them staying bc the people i ship them with ended up staying.

paul is a special case bc he has no reason to stay and i think he leaves for a while before moving back, except he never gets over darry curtis. actually he and darry are just whatever is implied for them in this fic (by @qprpbj) lol we love old men peril.

explanations on my thoughts below the cut bc this might get long lol

I cannot imagine a world where Sodapop Curtis willingly leaves Tulsa for good. I am a sucker for roadtrip AUs—seen a couple ones that have incredible vibes. a few posts like this one here (by @horsegirlsodapop) and fics like here (by @your-unfriendlyghost who is lowkey one of my favorite creators in this fandom lol) in particular. Like okay, Vietnam is one thing—I don't always love him going to war and I don't know I'd say it's in my canon that he goes to war (mostly bc the way @haljordangreenjedi and i made up our vietnam soda au is extremely convoluted and specific to us and the fic i posted about it here is all you guys get to see of it. iykyk). But Soda was born in Tulsa. He lives and breathes Tulsa. He will grow up, get married, have kids, grow old, and die in Tulsa. And he'll be happy about it.

Two-Bit just simply does not have the vibes of wanting to leave. He's lazy, he mooches off his friends—but he is unwaveringly loyal to them, as well as his mother and sister, I think. He seems like the type to be extremely close to his family and honestly I think that for him, it all boils down to doing the one thing his dad didn't: sticking around, forever.

Steve is weird bc Steve is the only one of the gang—excluding Darry & Pony—who I can see going to college in any way, shape, or form. I like to headcanon that Evie's dad owns the DX and the guy really likes Steve, so he pays for the kid to go to college enough to get a business degree to take over when he retires. I don't know where Steve would go; if he gets a scholarship somehow, if he leaves town (I don't think he would go out of state tho), if he goes to community college—but I think he values education enough to do it. But he and Soda end up running the DX for the rest of their lives. Steve might go for a bit but I don't think he stays away very long.

When Darry was younger, all he wanted was to go; he lost his chance. And now I think because of the way his circumstances changed, he'll always yearn for the knowledge of what could've been, but deep in his heart, he's knows he's home. His brothers are here and they always will be. I don't think he ever moves out of their house. It becomes a generational home and the extended family comes and goes as they please. All the holidays are celebrated there, all the birthdays, it's home. Darry ca't get away from it. But he always wonders, and I think once Pony publishes his book, he pays for Darry to go to college, but by that point Darry just goes locally. He and Pony will travel the world at some point, more than Soda ever could've dreamed of—they did take Soda surfing in California though, and took him to get pizza in New York, which were the top two things on his bucket list. Darry loves it, but as he gets older, he realizes he can't ever leave Tulsa, and Tulsa can't leave him.

Ponyboy has to leave. He has to. He wants to, he dreams of it, it's all he is. I think he goes to college and publishes his book—and a few others—and he travels the world. I personally think he was a journalism major and used his book money to go on all kinds of study abroad trips; I think he even went to Vietnam as a member of the press (but that's a whole other thing). He told his story and he wants to tell other peoples', too. He wants to know EVERYTHING he can, see the world from very angle—and he wants to live his life as if every day is a new beginning. He's staying gold. I think he lives—or is based out of—New York for a while, but honestly, he's in Tulsa more often than not and as he gets older he ends up settling down there (whether that's with a family of his own or a significant other is up to interpretation—I can't settle on how I think Pony's future goes in terms of relationships and/or family. I know I don't think he ends up with Cathy Carlson though LMAO this boy is GAY), maybe even back in the old house with Darry. I think they're a lot closer in their old age.

Johnny and Dally... they're dead. But they're both hard to decide for in a timeline where they live. Realistically, Johnny would probably not have an easy time leaving if he lived due to how the world treats people with disabilities. Now, if Bob never died, it's really up in the air. He and Pony might've run away. Sometimes I wonder if Johnny would've up and left with Dally at some point—Dally is not the type to stick around anywhere, unless he has a very good reason to, and Johnny kind of seems to be that reason. I think Johnny's problem is he wants to go but would stay, for the same reasons he won't run away from his parents. They're both a hard call.

[youllneverseeonascreen]

do you ever think about the fact that tex killed his brother and he will never know it was his brother he killed. do you ever think about what would mason do if he knew.

[youllneverseeonascreen]

also right after the rumble was over brent wa jumping on brody going “you did it baby!!!! you won your first rumble!!! he did it!!!” and called him baby at least twice that i heard ☹️☹️☹️

[youllneverseeonascreen]

Soda’s twelve years old when they take Mickey Mouse from him. He’s never felt loss like this before, and it feels like his soul itself is being ripped apart.

He leaves the stables he’s supposed to be working at—he’d be just plain volunteering there if he wasn’t so good with the horses that the owner started giving him a nickel for every day he worked.

But now, now Soda’s heart is broken and he doesn’t want to be there anymore, and the truck with Mickey Mouse’s horse trailer is pulling out of the parking lot as he walks in. They tell Soda that they sold him.

So he turns on his heel and runs, and he follows that trailer damn near to the edge of town. He doesn’t look where he’s going, he doesn’t care. He runs until he can’t run anymore and then he walks until he gets blisters on his feet trying to follow it. He keeps going until he has to jump a fence and falls on his face but still gets up. He wants his horse back. they can’t take him like this. Soda has never loved anything or anyone, outside his family and friends, as much as he loves Mickey Mouse. He's the best thing Soda has, and he’s not even Soda’s, and now he’s gone, and it’s not fair.

He walks even when the sun’s shining in his eyes as he continues west, and suddenly—he doesn't know when—Steve and Two-Bit appear next to him, they’ve got Two-Bit's bike and Steve jumps off the back and asks Soda where he’s going, why’s his nose bleeding, and for once Soda isn’t bubbly or smiling. He just stares off towards the horizon and says, “They sold my horse. They sold my dang horse. I gotta find Mickey Mouse.” 

“He ain’t your—” Two-Bit starts, climbing off his bike to walk along with them, but Steve elbows him and gives him a look like, don’t. Two-Bit doesn’t, because Steve's right; it’s a miracle Sodapop isn’t sobbing right now. It doesn’t look like he has yet, and they don’t really want to deal with him breaking down all the way out here. Not when they’re gonna have to walk back through the west side on the way home. 

Hell, it’s a miracle Soda hasn’t been jumped yet, running off alone, deep into soc territory, lost like he is.

Instead, Two-Bit asks Soda if walking is really the best idea, because it's hot as hell out today, not a cloud in the sky. The sun is beating down on them, hard; and then there's that they don’t know where this truck drove off to. Actually, there’s no truck at all; no horse trailer to be seen, and yet Soda continues forward, determined to do the impossible.

“Y’all don’t get it. This is Mickey Mouse we’re talkin’ about. I ain’t just gonna give up on ‘im like that," Soda mumbles, shaking his head. He stretches his arms out and cracks his knuckles and they can tell he’s nervous, but he’s also definitely not thinking clearly. His eyes are all but glazed over and he just seems distant.

And then there's the eerie calm in his voice when he adds: “Dally’d get it. Yeah, he gets horses like I do. Y'all go get Dallas, he’ll help me out.”

And then his friends share a look, and Steve says, “Sodapop, Dally ain’t here. He's in New York. He ain't been back to Tulsa in almost three years. Look, it’s not like it’s—like it’s one of your brothers missing, y'know? And what’re you gonna do when you get there, wherever you’re goin’, huh? You gonna buy him back?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah? With what money?”

And then Soda does stop. He turns to look at his friends, and he says, “If y'all ain’t gonna help me, get lost. I’m not goin’ home without my horse.”

Then he turns on his heel and keeps walking.

“He’s lost his dang mind,” Two-Bit mumbles, shaking his head a bit, and then the boys get back on the bike and head back into town to find a payphone.

Twenty minutes later, Soda’s still walking, and he's just about reached his breaking point. He's been walking so long he's forgotten the world around him is even real. Blazing pain starts to wash over him, and his eyes are getting kinda droopy. He's sweaty and tired and dehydrated, and his legs kinda feel like jelly. 

There's a familiar rumbling of an old engine, and a red ford pickup truck pulls up as Soda drops down onto the side of the dirt road. He isn't gonna catch up to that dang truck. His heart hurts and he can't tell if it's the fact he's been walking for so long, or the heat, or the loss. His skin burns bright pink from the sunburn, and tears well up in his eyes when the truck stops and Dad asks if he's lost his damn mind, scaring everybody like this.

It's not Soda's first adrenaline crash, but it might be one of his worst to date. He lets himself breakdown right there on the side of the road on the outskirts of Tulsa, with Dad’s arm around him, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“There ain't nothin' we can do. I'm so sorry, Pepsi-cola."

Late that night, Soda will be sleeping off near-heatstroke on the couch, a cool washcloth on his forehead while his parents whisper in the kitchen. They don't know Soda's awake, that he can hear every word they say.

They're scared, now. Because Soda isn’t like his brothers. Because making waves riding that horse at the stables was starting to seem like Soda’s only way out of this godforsaken town, and now he doesn’t even have that.

Mama and Dad saw Mickey Mouse as Soda's way out, his only hope at a bright future. Sodapop loved that horse so much that when he was gone, it felt like a part of his soul left with him. He isn’t ever going to forget this. He doens’t think he’ll ever really move on.

...Fifteen or so years later, a kid out in Garyville loses his horse, and he does the same damn thing.

———

read on ao3 here!

[youllneverseeonascreen]

Ponyboy doodles!:D give this poor kid a break omg😭

[youllneverseeonascreen]

please talk about two-bit and molly!! i love that name for her btw I’ve seen a bunch of different names for his sister but that one has always been my favorite and my go-to for her. like there’s something about the alliteration of “molly mathews” that just gets me lol

soooo this was an ask that i got when i was having insane brainrot abt two-bit and molly,,, and this fic was born !

biiiiiig snaps to @youllneverseeonascreen for listening to my incessant rambling abt these two before i wrote this lmao

also i love calling her molly, too!! idk i’ve seen her called a lot of names and that’s just the only one that’s ever really stuck with me..

hope this is okay🩷

two-bit could tell that molly wasn’t asleep, she was the type of kid to be completely still the moment she fell asleep, and she’d been tossing and turning for hours. go figure, their dad had been howling at mama since he got home from the bar, and as much as she knew how to hand him his lunch when she needed to, all she was doing tonight was throwing gas on the fire.

two-bit had brought molly into his room and did everything he could to keep her from thinking about their parents. he had let her shine his flashlight while he made shadow puppets with his hands, read through all of her favorite books, even built a blanket fort around the bed in a last ditch effort to muffle some of the yelling, but the walls were thin.

all that was left for him to do was lay down next to her and hope it would end, why shouldn’t it? any ordinary parent would be concerned with their 5-year-old staying in her bed all night, and their 12-year-old leaving her alone and not keeping each other up on a school night.

something shattered in the kitchen, and two felt molly flinch up against him.

he rolled over to face her and she gazed up at him, her big brown eyes glassy in the moonlight. he sighed and brushed her messy brown hair out of her face, his heart sinking as his hand grazed a stray tear on her cheeks.

“why are they yelling?” molly whimpered, her voice slurring slightly from drowsiness.

two-bit felt something clench in his chest as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, “i don’t know, bug, sometimes they just don’t get along.”

“but pony, soda, and darry’s mama and daddy always do…” she mumbled.

two-bit bit the inside of his cheek and sat up, “you wanna go there instead?”

molly glanced sheepishly at the door behind her and nodded slowly. two-bit pressed a kiss to the top of her head and pushed back the covers and stood up. he picked up his school backpack and shoved in a set of clothes for both of them from the laundry basket on the floor. molly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so quiet.

he finished packing away everything they needed and reached out his hands to her, “c’mere, we’ll put a sweatshirt on you so you don’t freeze on the way over.”

he helped her up and pulled one of his smallest sweatshirts over her head. it was still about five times bigger than her, but it didn’t need to fit her, it just needed to keep her warm. he found her rainboots discarded in the corner of his room and helped her get them on before slipping on his own pair of sneakers. he grabbed a jacket of his own, a windbreaker darry had given him when it had gotten too small.

“okay, just keep it down for a second, we’re gonna go through the window, okay?” two-bit whispered, and molly nodded anxiously.

their house was all on one level, so sneaking out through the bedroom window was nothing he hadn’t done before, but he’d never snuck molly out with him. he slung the backpack over his shoulder and slowly slid the window open, enough that he’d be able to fit through, but would still be able to close it behind him.

as he slid out the window, he felt big droplets of rain hitting his legs. shit, had their parents been so loud that they hadn’t even heard the rain outside? he reached behind his head to put the hood of the jacket up before realizing there wasn’t one to be had.

“it’s rainin, stinkbug, put your hood up!” he whisper-shouted at molly, and had to laugh when the hood fell lower than her eyes.

she reached up her hands and two-bit pulled her through the window, balancing her on his hip and shutting the window behind her. she curled up close to him, and he wrapped the unzipped edges of the jacket around her to keep her dry before taking off at a run towards the curtis house.

the house was barely a block away, but by the time they were under the cover of the curtis’ front porch, two-bit was drenched. He could feel rainwater dripping down his back from his soaked hair and his feet sloshing uncomfortably in his waterlogged boots. he knocked quickly, readjusting molly in his arms, trying to keep his arms from shaking so much. she looked at him sadly, her eyes huge in the porch light, blinking up around her rain soaked hood.

the door opened a few moments later, mrs. curtis standing in front of them with her husband behind her at the kitchen table.

“who’s there?” he asked her.

“just a couple of strays,” she wrapped an arm around two-bit and ushered him inside the warm house. “oh, honey, you’re soaked to the skin, c’mere.”

she gently took molly from him, brushing back the wet hair that had been plastered to two-bit’s forehead and taking the soaked backpack off his shoulders. everything in it would be ruined…

“go on into our room, there’s some clean towels in there, they just need folded. the top dresser drawer is darry’s old stuff we’re gonna give to soda, it should fit you alright,” she hugged him to her side quickly before patting him on the back, ushering him towards the room. “go dry off and we’ll talk, okay?”

he looked back at molly, who mrs. curtis was handing off to mr. curtis. he marveled for a second at how easily molly changed from one to the other with a level of comfort he had never seen with either of their parents.

“molly?” he mumbled, his voice much higher than he had thought it would be.

“we’ve got her, she’s okay,” mr. curtis answered, gently pulling off her hood and running a hand through her hair.

two-bit hurried down the hallway to their bedroom, discarding darry’s soaked windbreaker and throwing it over the post of the bed. there was a laundry basket full of towels, and he grabbed one and started drying his hair. he opened the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out a pair of flannel pants and a crewneck sweatshirt that seemed like they’d fit him and tugged off his soaked pants and t-shirt, kicking his sopping converse to the corner of the room where he hung up his clothes. he pulled on the dry pajamas as quickly as he could before hurrying back into the living room.

“was the storm keeping you up, little lady?” mrs. curtis asked molly. she was sandwiched between them on the couch, one of ponyboy’s blankets thrown over her, even though she was still drowning in the fabric of two-bit’s sweatshirt. two-bit sat down in front of her on the floor, holding her cold hands in his.

molly shook her head, “no, mama and daddy were yellin’ again.”

mrs. curtis frowned and looked over molly’s head at her husband.

molly kept going, “they just don’t love each other no more.”

mr. curtis nudged molly with his leg, “you know, love ain’t perfect kiddo, we fight, too sometimes, but i think your parents still love each other. it doesn’t just turn on and off like that, you two are proof that they love each other a whole awful lot.”

she looked up at him, “really?”

“you think it was easy to get a baby in your mama’s tummy?” he laughed. “no way! there’s gotta be a whole bunch of love for that to happen. they still love each other, kiddo, i swear.”

“but sometimes it’s hard, and sometimes people get mad,” mrs. curtis leaned forward and rubbed two-bit’s shoulder. “but you two can always come here when it’s hard for them, you should never have to worry about them like that.”

two-bit could feel a lump swelling in his throat, he tried to bite back the tears, but he was so tired and the night had been so long, he was helpless to stop it. a few tears slid down his cheeks, and molly’s bottom lip pouted out. she reached out her little arms and fell off the couch into his chest. he wrapped his arms protectively around his baby sister, grateful that at the very least, he could keep her safe for a moment… for a night, if they were lucky.

she sat back and wiped the tears off his cheeks clumsily with her huge sleeves, a brave smile spreading across her cheeks.

“don’t these two strays have school in the morning, mama?” mr. curtis asked.

“i think they do,” she smiled down at them. “two, i think darry might still be up working on some homework, but you can bunk with him tonight. and we’ll get you all comfy out here, little lady.”

molly nodded, content with the sleeping arrangement, but two-bit looked at the recliner in the corner and asked quietly, “would it be alright if i stayed out here?”

mrs. curtis smiled, “of course, honey, let me grab you two some blankets.”

in just about no time, two-bit and molly we’re curled up in thick blankets, the lights turned off, and the sound of the rain finally lulling them to sleep. two-bit kept stealing glances over at molly’s face, illuminated by the dim streetlights outside, to see when she was asleep.

she piped up just when he was sure she was about to fall asleep, “two?”

“yeah, firefly?”

she smirked at him, “i love you.”

“i love you, too, kiddo.”

[youllneverseeonascreen]

So I finally got the book The Warriors just to see how the movie deviated from it.

Tell me why these tough city guys are heading into rumble playing Beatles songs

[youllneverseeonascreen]

Thinking of Dallas Winston with his St. Christopher pendant. Dallas who once upon a time had a mom, a dad, maybe a grandparent. Who had a memory of when he first got the medal. How old was he? Was it before or after his first night in jail- either way a kid is still a little kid. Dallas who might’ve been able to remember parts of the story and why the guy mattered at all. Why he still remembered it years later. Dallas who rarely took it off unless cops made him for the night. Dallas who would just say the thing just made him look tough if anyone asked him. Dallas who would absentmindedly hold and yank it at night while staring at bucks ceiling with music and trains and footsteps being too loud.

Thinking of that Ethel Cain line “God loves you but not enough to save you”

[youllneverseeonascreen]

And if I say this is qppbj after Johnny dies

[youllneverseeonascreen]

my gf drew me parry for my bday AAAAA

her art insta is @ nyamyfan