#angry soda and steve

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

KILLER’S BROTHER

Ding ding!

The DX has finally opened back up, after what seemed like forever. And the first thing Soda finds is disappointment.

“You see what I mean, Steve? Look at this shit.” Soda huffed, taking out the paper and showing it to him.

“Yeah, I'm seein'.” Steve grumbled, scratching his chin and yawning. It was early in the morning, too early to be dealing with this bullshit already.

“I just– I don't understand.” Soda balled up the paper, throwing it into the trash with a bit more force than necessary. “I can't see who sends these messages, so for all I know it could be multiple people out for my brother.” Soda frowned, shaking his head and readjusting his shirt to fidget with something instead of tightening his fist.

“Yeah...” Steve was absent-minded, which bothered Soda slightly, but not enough to yell about it. “I'll keep an eye out, holler out to the other guys too. Let's just hope it don't and up being some huge sha-bang leading to some crazy rumble or somethin'. We've had these streets pretty damn clean.”

Steve stared hard at the paper in the trash. “I'd hate to lose that streak. But I'll do it for Pony, if it means he's in harms way.”

After that, Steve and Soda exchanged a few words before going to their respected corners of the shop to get to work finally. The sign was now flipped to “Now Open.”

Soda, in the meantime, leaves a note.

If you got a fucking problem with me, say it with your chest, not with a pen. Pussy.

[sodapopper]

Okay. Hmm. I hear you with the “Soda and addiction” headcanons because on a surface level, I get where folks are coming from. He’s an adrenaline junkie, the world is loud and overwhelming, he finds ways to drown it out. I see what’s happening with those headcanons. I sort of get the vision.

But I feel like everything we learn about him in canon directly contradicts the idea of an addictive Soda.

He doesn’t drink. (I know people theorize Ponyboy is wrong about this, but listen, we have to believe the kid sometimes or the entire concept of canon becomes a joke.) He rarely ever smokes. He stays out of fights to protect Darry’s custody. He keeps a steady job. He’s faithful to his girlfriend and has a longterm goal to settle down with her—and canon implies they were having little, if any, sex.

For being flighty and easily distracted, Soda actually seems comparatively responsible, at least when paired against most of the guys in his circle—and if you’re not willing to believe Ponyboy’s narration, I think Darry’s trust in Soda is the biggest proof of this. These guys “know the score” and living recklessly isn’t just a matter of personal lifestyle, it’s something that directly affects their family. Soda is aware of this and the repercussions his actions have on Darry’s custody, and I simply can’t believe he’s out there living the Two-Bit life behind his brothers’ backs.

NOT TO SAY he’s living responsibly, because, well, he’s still Soda. But there’s a measure of awareness and self control that I don’t think we give him credit for having.

Pinning Soda as the addictive brother is ironic to me when PONYBOY MICHAEL CURTIS IS RIGHT THERE. The kid who eats handfuls of aspirin. Who can’t live without pepsi. Who chainsmokes at 14.

One of the Curtis boys has an addictive personality, and it ain’t Soda.

[horsegirlsodapop]

i have so many thoughts always about "easy" kid sodapop curtis. he cries at anything but it's his horse getting sold and nature documentaries on TV and cute stray dogs and things that are manageable and small and easy for his brothers to brush off because they are facts and unfixable. he reassures pony that darry loves him. he tells darry he's doing a good job. he makes them both laugh. he placates and mediates. he plays dumb. he's good with understanding people but couldn't name half the things he feels. he is always happy and carefree and never hurt or angry and he doesn't want to worry his brothers.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

GUYS!!! Y"ALL KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS!! once again tidbit tuesday has accidently turned into pretty much a full fic but y'know what? the more the merrier AUGH ENJOY!!

"Hullo?" Johnny pushes the screen door open without knockin', sticks his head in through the door.

"Well, hello back atcha." Soda's layin' flat on his stomach on the carpet, socked feet kickin' idly in the air 'n a card game nonsensical to everyone but him laid out in front of him. He flips over onto his back, sits up, frowns at the cards 'n moves two of 'em around.

"Darry or Pone home?" Johnny toes his converse off at the door, swiped for him compliments of Two, 'n lays 'em neatly next to the door, grabbin' a pair of Soda's he'd kicked off wildly 'n layin' 'em side by side.

"Wow, 'n what am I Johnnycakes? Chopped liver?" Soda cracks a grin, beams a pillow that'd been layin' nearby on the floor at his head.

"Aw, man. I didn't mean it like that." He deftly ducks, grabs it from where it lands in the kitchen 'n punts it back. Darry always swore one day they were gonna go to chuck a pillow 'n it was gonna explode 'n they better not even think to ask Darry to help them clean it up.

Soda catches it, goes to throw it back, finds a hole in the edge 'n thinks better of it. He shoots Johnny a wink 'n plops it down right in front where the next person'll be sure to grab it, poppin' to his feet, card game forgotten. "Ya need somethin', Johnny?"

"Not really. Don't worry 'bout it, Soda." His stomach growls 'n he ducks his head, decidedly avoidin' Soda's prodin' stare.

"Well, while you're here you might as well stay 'n keep me company. Dar's got me on house arrest." Soda musses up Johnny's hair as he crosses into the kitchen, pops the icebox open 'n peers inside.

Johnny rocks back 'n forth on the balls of his feet, worries at his lip 'n watches Soda. He can sense him pullin' his old tricks, makin' one of 'em do somethin' on the preface of helpin' him when he knew it was the other way 'round. "I don't wanna bug ya-"

"You can make it up to me by eatin' these leftover sweet potatoes 'n tellin' Dar I finished them." He fishes them outta the fridge 'n tosses the container to Johnny.

"Since when didya stop likin' sweet potatoes?" Johnny cocks an eyebrow but follows him in the kitchen, movin' from cabinet to cabinet to pull out glasses 'n plates 'n forks.

"Since forever. Johnny, your memory's goin' in your old age." Soda presses the container of casserole he's pullin' out to his chest solemnly.

"Aw, hush. You're older'n me Soda." Soda pauses thoughtfully, taps a finger to his chin.

"Huh. Didn't thinka that."

"Maybe you oughta be worried about your memory, man." Johnny plunks down a plate 'n Soda howls, reachin' over to snap him up by the shoulder 'n fold him into his side.

"Damn, you're too quick for your own good." Soda hollers 'n jabs Johnny in the side 'n Johnny tries real hard to hide the wince. He really really does. But here's the thing with Soda. There ain't much he misses.

The smile drops straight off his face. Eyes darkenin'. 'N Soda's got that kinda eyes that can do that. Be all laughin' 'n grinnin' one moment 'n then pickin' you right apart the next. "Y'good, Johnny?"

"Yeah, man. I'm all good. Don't worry about it." He twists away from Soda, or at least he tries to, but now Soda's holdin' right onto him, hand wrapped good 'n tight around his bicep.

"Then you don't mind provin' it? Do ya?" 'N it's not a question. Not really.

'N here's the thing. Johnny don't really like to talk about it. Don't like to pretend he's anythin' but fine. 'Cause people ain't ever normal about it. Even when they think they are. There's always a look. An odd word. It can make a person real sick. Always feelin' like people pity you.

But this ain't just anyone. It's Soda. 'N Johnny knows he just cares. His fingers find the edge of his shirt, lift it up just along his ribs where they're painted dark with bruises like fingers stained with blackberry juice in the fall.

Soda doesn't say anythin'. Doesn't hiss in realization or understandin'. Just presses the back of his hand to the spot 'n frowns lightly when he feels heat there. He pulls away 'n Johnny drops his shirt back down.

"Anythin' new?" He lets Johnny go, turns around to break off some of the built-up ice from the fridge.

"Naw. Same old, same old." Soda nods, keeps his back to Johnny 'n he can tell his turnin' somethin' around in his mind.

"Would ya tell me if there was? Somethin' different?" He reaches over to snatch one of the kitchen towels, wraps the ice up in it, hands the whole bundle out.

'N for a moment Johnny doesn't move at all. 'Cause Soda don't look... anythin'. Just... Soda. 'N that doesn't make much sense. But it's the best he can put it.

'Cause when Darry 'n Dallas found new bruises 'n cuts 'n whatever the hell else his da could do to him there was always anger there. Not to him. God, never at him. But it was like they couldn't help themselves. Couldn't help the righteous rage that built right up in them.

'N Pony always looked at him. But Pony couldn't get it. God, Mr. 'n Mrs. C had been real good to their kids. 'N so had Dar. After, well, everythin'. He had always been a lil' horrified by violence 'n hate. 'N Johnny sorely hoped he always would be.

It made Two uncomfortable. Steve restless. He'd seen it all. 'N he knew they all just cared. He knew. But it never made it any easier.

But Soda ain't doin' none of that. He's just lookin' down at Johnny patiently, wide, dark eyes he got from their daddy blinkin' down at him, olive branch in the form of a meltin' towel of ice in his hands. Like he don't see him any different.

"Johnnycakes?" He tilts his head to the side, offers him the towel 'n this time he takes it.

"Yeah?" 'N He promises them all things all the time. I won't go home tonight. I ain't gonna get myself hurt. I'd tell ya if I did.

"You'd tell someone if it was different. Right?" But this one feels... manageable. A start.

"Sure, Soda. Yeah. I will." He takes the ice, presses it against his ribs 'n Soda watches him a moment more, ruffles his hair. Drops the casserole on the table 'n deals out a healthy portion to Johnny with a conspiratorial grin.

"Good. Now help me finish these potatoes before Dar gets home 'n makes me sit here all night until they're gone." 'N that's that.

[daydreamerswriting]

hiiii!!! do you think you could do something with the gang (separately) being protective of reader? its okay if you dont want to though!!! totally up to you 💕💕

The Gang Being Protective

The outsiders x fem!reader

an: I tried to give them all different plots so it wasn't repetitive. Thank you for the request and sorry this took SOOO long. (This request is so old and this took me WAY too long I'm sorry 😭) please leave more requests guys!

W: men being gross and creepy, swearing, not proof read

Darry Curtis

Darry Curtis normally isn't one for parties, but you convinced him to go to one with you. He was, unfortunately, not having the best time. But you were. You were drinking and dancing and having the time of your life. You pulled Darry around with you as you chatted with your friends, acquaintances, total strangers, anyone.

Some time into the party, the two of you got separated. You were getting another drink and talking to a old classmate from high-school. A guy approaches you, and you immediately get a bad feeling.

"Hey sweet thing." He slurs with a smirk.

You grip your drink tighter and it takes everything in you not to show your disgust on your face. "Hi."

"You look good enough to eat. Let's get outta here, yeah?" He steps way to close to you.

Ew. "No thank-"

"No, she doesn't." A familiar, stern voice cuts you off as a muscular arms is wrapped around your shoulders.

You glance up at him. He's glaring daggers at the man who talked to you.

The man scoffed. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Her boyfriend. Now why don't you back the hell up?" His voice is stern, deep, and angry.

The guy scoffs again, rolls his eyes, and walks away. "Whatever.."

Darry turns his attention to you. "Are you alright, y/n?" He asks tenderly.

You nod. "Thank you."

"Of course, darling, you don't have to thank me." He kisses your forehead.

Sodapop Curtis

"Can you hand me a wrench?" Soda asks you as he sticks his hand out from under the Curtis's truck. The poor old thing had broke from the hundredth time and he was in charge of fixing it.

You grab a wrench out off the tool box beside you and hand it to him. "Here."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

The only reason you're here, sitting on the curb while Soda fixes up the car, is because you had come over to tell him something. You were a little nervous to tell him. You've heard stories from your friends about how their past boyfriends weren't cool with stuff like this.

"Hey, Soda?" You say while staring down at your hands.

"Yeah?" He calls back from under the car.

"I'm going with my friend tomorrow, so we have to cancel our date."

"Oh." He slides out from under the car and sits up, looking at you. "You can't go any other day?"

You shake your head. "He's only going to be in town a few days, and tomorrow is the only day he's free." You explain.

His eyebrows furrow and he looks untrusting. "He?"

You nod. "We were friends in elementary school, but then he moved away."

"Oh." He thinks this over for a minute. "It's not like a date, right?"

Youre taken aback. "What? No, of course not. We're just hanging out as friends, babe."

"Good." He nods and ponders this again for a moment. "Can I go?"

"Do you not trust me?" You ask, feeling slightly hurt.

He shakes his head. "No, of course I trust you. I don't trust this guy I've never meant. Plus, if he's your friend, I wanna meet him." He smiles. Soda did like knowing all the people in your life. He had wanted to meet your family and friends as soon as possible.

"I- I don't know. I haven't seen him in so long, and it might be weird with you there. He doesn't know you, you don't know him. I want you to meet him too, but I don't want to make it awkward with you there the whole time. Don't you think it's annoying when people drag their partners to every hang out."

"Yeah, okay. Hm.. how about I drop you off and meet him when I drop you off." He smiles, knowing that that's a good suggestion.

You smile too. "Sure. That sounds like a good plan, Soda."

Steve Randle

Shelves don't restock themselves, so Steve was stocking them while complaining to you. You ate some chips he bought you while he ranted.

"I got this job so I could work on cars, not restock shelves." He told you.

"Do you want me to help you?" You offer.

"No, no. Its my job. And I don't need us both losing our minds cause of how boring this is."

You laugh. "Okay."

He finishes stocking everything in the box he had, so he goes into the back to get another. He kisses you before going.

You crumple up your empty bag of chips and look for a trash can to throw it away in. The bell by the door rings, meaning someone entered the gas station. You find a trash can and toss the chip bag from a short distance, but somehow, you miss. So, you bend down to pick it up.

And then you hear a whistle. You think it's Steve trying to tease you for a moment, until you turn around and see some random guy. He was smirking at you too. What the hell?

"What the hell?" A familiar voice asks angrily. You turn your head and see Steve walking over to you while glaring at the guy. "Why're you whistling at my girl?"

"Hey, man. I didn't know that she'd been claimed." He raises his hands.

Claimed? You scoff.

"Claimed? " Steve says, "She's a human being, not a, fucking parking spot or something. Why don't you get the hell outta my store." He crosses his arms.

The guys shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and huffs. "Whatever." Then he turns and leaves.

"Fucking asshole." Steve shakes his head then looks down at you. "You okay?"

You smile. "Yes, thank you."

He uncrosses his arms and reaches for your hand, taking it in his. "You don't have to thank me, baby."

Two-Bit Matthews

It was a chilly afternoon, and you and Two-Bit were walking around town together. You were wearing his jacket and his arm was around you. You were talking about random stuff and laughing together. The two of you had just left a diner and were now walking to your house.

You always had a blast when you were with Two-Bit. He was funny and surprisingly sweet. He made you feel lighter and just being around him calmed you down. He was familiar.

The two of talk about school, friends, life, anything that pops into your minds. All is going great until you pass a guy who's leans against the side of a building, smoking a cigarette. He whistles at you. A somewhat small sound that was absolutely unnerving. It immediately made you uncomfortable. And of course Two-Bit heard it and noticed your change in energy.

"Has that ever worked for you?" Two-Bit asks the guy angrily as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

"Huh?" The creep looks you the both of you.

"I said, 'has that ever worked for you?' Because I'm guessin' it hasn't." Two-Bit had stopped walking and was looking back at the guy.

"I- fuck off, man." He turns to leave.

"Leave girls like mine alone, wacko!" Two-Bit calls as the guy walks away. Then he turns his head to look at you. "I'm sorry, baby." He says.

"Oh, it's okay. I'm fine." You say as you two begin to walk down the sidewalk again.

"But it's not okay. Guys shouldn't be whistling at or cat calling you, baby. Ticks me off." He lets go of your waist and holds your hand.

You squeeze his hand, appreciating his concern and protection. "Thanks for standing up for me."

He shrugs. "Don't mention it, I owed you, you got lunch."

Dallas Winston

Dallas loves to show you off. He loves getting to let people know that you're his. He loves watching other guys disappointed faces when you're all over him.

You were hesitant to wear such a short skirt to the party at Buck's, but Dallas was quick to reassure you.

"You look absolutely gorgeous. Good enough to eat, doll." He held you from behind as you gazed into your mirror. So it was settled. You wore the skirt.

Unfortunately, that meant you got stares.

One man in particular had been staring at you all night. At first, you thought you were imagining things, seeing him the corner of your eye, but you kept making eye contact with him. It was making you uncomfortable.

"That guy over there is staring at me." You whisper to Dallas, peeking over your shoulder at him.

Dallas tightens his arm around your waist. He looks in the direction you're looking. He makes eye contact with the man, causing the man to look away.

"I'll talk to him."

Only Dallas Winston doesn't "talk" to people who have pissed him off, and he's clearly pissed off. Now, you'd be happy to see this guy get slugged, but you really didn't want Dallas getting into a fight. So, you grab his hand when he starts to walk away.

"Dallas–"

"I'm just gonna talk to him, I promise." He squeezes your hand then pulls his away. He walks over the man and you lag slowly behind him, really hoping this doesn't end in violence.

Dallas approaches him. "Hey man, my girl doesn't like being stared at by creeps like you. I think should you cut it out."

The man scoffs. "Maybe she shouldn't dress like a that then. I can look if I'd like."

"She can dress how ever the hell she pleases, doesn't give you any right to watch her like a fucking creep."

Oh boy was he getting mad. You walk up behind him and put your hand on his shoulder. "Dal, it's not worth it, c'mon."

The man smirks at you. "Well, hello sweet cheeks."

Ew. "Excuse me?" You say at the same time Dallas's fist lands on his face.

Johnny Cade

Johnny trusts you mote than anyone he knows, so why was he so worried? Sure, you'd hung out with a friend for yours that happened to be a guy and didn't tell him, but that guy's just your friend, right? Well, he better be. Johnny knows that he should talk to you about it, but he's not sure how to bring it up. Luckily, you do one day while walking through the park with him.

"Last weekend I went to see this movie, Viva Las Vegas, that new one with Elvis in it, with my friend Aaron. It was just okay." You say.

He hesitates then asks, "Who's Aaron?"

"My friend." You say simply.

A faint smile appears on his face from your answer. "Well, yeah, but who is he? Why're you going to the movies with him?" He feels awkward asking.

You can tell what he's thinking about, and you feel a bit guilty for making him worry. "Oh, it's nothing bad, I swear. Me, him, and this girl, Margaret– we were all three going to go together, but Margaret never showed. We learned on Monday that she'd been sick."

"Oh," he nods. "I mean, I don't really mind that you're hanging out with a guy alone. If it was Soda or Steve or Ponyboy, ya know, I wouldn't care. It's just cause I don't know him, that's all."

"Yeah." You pause then smile. "You were jealous." You tease as you take hold of his arm.

"I'm wasn't–" He pauses and looks at you. He sighs, "I was worried about you. I trust you, but I can't trust people I've never met."

You think quietly for a moment, then make a suggestion. "How about, next time we make plans, I'll ask if you can come, so you can meet him."

He smiles and nods. "Okay, that sounds perfect, sweetheart, thank you." He slips his arm out from your grasp and instead puts in around your shoulders. He pulls you in, towards him, and places a kiss on your forehead.

An: idk why this took so long. Please leave me more requests! The more specific, the more fun!

[cozm1xxx]

ᯓ⭒Fight like wolves, but flee like birds .ᐟ

“There’s Darry, Sodapop and Ponyboy — and then there’s their baby sister. She’s loved, sure, but do they truly ever show it? Or do they just say so and hope that it’s enough?”

Warnings ~ cursing, arguing, insinuation of sh and mental health struggles

･ ⟢ ⋮ a/n ~ This little fic is based around this fic by @jamesdeanbby !! I tried my best to make sure it isn’t the exact same, but the store scene is rlly similar 😓 🙏 also yes I am making this two parts…

w/c: 1,000+

──── ₊˚⊹ ♰ ⊹˚₊ ────

Life would never be easy for someone like you.

A teenage girl, living in a house constantly full of boys.

Before your parents died, it was fine; sure, you didn’t always get the newest clothes or cutest makeup, but it was enough. Because you had your mom.

Now you don’t.

And Darry is the one bringing you shopping. Darry is the one supervising what you buy. Darry, a twenty-year-old boy — no, man — is the one who watches you eye the frilly, cute dresses in the store and is the one who says no every time.

It feels as though he never even tries to understand you. He gets along with Soda and Pony just fine, because they’re boys, but you?

You’re a girl. And therefore, lesser than.

At least that’s how it feels.

Soda can go to as many rodeos as he wants, stay out as late as he wants. Pony gets praised for his smarts, he can smoke in the house whenever, he can stay at the lot and not get grounded.

You?

At the age of sixteen, you can’t stay out past 8:30. You can’t get cute skirts because they’re too expensive. You can’t go anywhere without telling Darry. You can’t get anything cute or girly. You can’t do anything.

You feel like a rat trapped in a cage. Like a bird with clipped wings.

It’s hell.

Darry never understands you. Never tried to understand you. Not before your parents died and certainly not after. He never knew what you did in your room, late at night — why your arms would suddenly be covered by sleeves despite the blistering summer heat. He never put in the effort.

───〃★

Beeps from cash registers, the pungent smell of cleaning products and terribly bright fluorescent lights overwhelm your senses. Darry’s footsteps echo beside you. Loud. Heavy. The total opposite of your own.

As you walk past the girl’s clothing section, your eyes catch on something. A skirt; pink with ruffles and lace. Your steps falter, and of course, Darry notices. His response is almost immediate.

“No.”

You look up at him, your expression shifting. That spark of excitement in your eyes burning out. He notices, but doesn’t show it.

“You know we can’t afford it, kid.” His voice is firm. Cold. That’s all it ever is around you. Not warm like it is with Soda, not calm like with Pony. He’s never treated you the way he does them.

“I know.” You reply, your own tone taking on an edge by default. But Darry, of course, can’t help getting mad.

“Would you quit that? You’re actin’ like a brat. You can’t always get what you want.”

He stares down at you, eyes stormy and voice like thunder; expecting you to argue, to make a scene like Pony would or scold him right back like Soda might.

But you don’t.

You can’t.

You just stand there, tears welling up but never falling.

He knows you’re not like Pony and Soda. You’re a girl. You’re different. Your brain is just wired differently, and he can’t seem to grasp onto the fact.

The rest of your time in the store is tense, like a taught string waiting to snap in half. Not a word is spoken from either of you; only subtle glances.

The drive home is worse.

───〃★

“You listen here young lady–!”

Darry’s voice roars throughout the small space of the living room. Moments earlier, you’d burst in, tears welling in your eyes, your expression full of frustration and betrayal.

“No! Why should I listen to you when you never listen to me?!” You yell back.

The others all stare on, the entire rest of the gang – Soda, Two-Bit, Pony, Steve – they all watch on as you and your brother argue like angry dogs.

Darry huffs, shaking his head disapprovingly. Like a dad would. Not a big brother. “Would you quit sayin’ that?! You’re actin’ like a damn child, y’know that?”

It’s like seeing someone argue with their reflection. Two people, both too stubborn to understand the other, but equally struggling. You, unheard and unseen, and Darry, placed in the position he is by chance, not choice.

“You never let me do anything! You treat me like a pest, not your sister!” You argue back.

He doesn’t say anything. Just stares. Too frustrated to snap back and not say something he’ll regret.

But you continue on; cracks in your voice, but not a single stutter.

“You don’t treat me like you do Soda and Ponyboy! You treat them like brothers, while I’m nothing but vermin!” The tears finally start falling, hot and salty against your cheeks. “You let Soda do what he wants, you praise Pony for being a genius, but what do I get? Nothing! Not a word of kindness or affection! ‘Stop pouting,’ ‘Don’t give me that look,’ ‘Calm down’! That’s all I hear—”

All Darry can do is stare at you. The room is silent aside from your rambling, each pair of eyes looking anywhere but you and Darry from their scattered positions.

“— and nothing else! I bet you wished I was in an orphanage, huh? So you wouldn’t have to deal with me an’ all my ‘childish’ wants?!”

This is what makes him snap. The idea that you think he doesn’t love you; that he doesn’t care.

“Would you shut your goddamn mouth?! You act like I don’t care, when that’s all I do! It ain’t my fault we’re broke and can’t afford your stupid skirts and dinner!”

There he goes again. Placing the blame on you, as if you aren’t the one being neglected. Tears stream down your cheeks like waterfalls, your bottom lip quivering as you try your hardest not to let out a sob; brows furrowed in a scowl. A mirror image of Darry himself.

And then you say the three words he would never wish to hear – three words that send him spiraling.

“I hate you, Darry! I wish I was never born, goddamnit!”

He freezes. Everyone does. The tension in the room reaches its peak, your words causing everyone to stop and hold their breaths.

But before he can reply, before he can apologize or argue, you’re gone. Leaving nothing but a door swinging in your wake.

Darry stares at the open door, eyes wide with emotion; regret, anger, frustration, betrayal. This is his fault and he knows it. He never made an effort to understand you. To make you feel loved. To love you in general.

Moments later, Dally and Johnny step inside, quickly noticing the tension and quietness.

“The fuck happened here? Did the girl throw another fit?” Dally drawls, a sick grin on his face.

His words are like a knife to Darry’s heart. Everyone’s silence tells him all he needs to know.

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

The realization appears on his face as quick as a lightswitch flipping on.

“Oh, shit, man. What did you do, Darry?” He immediately asks, stepping further into the quiet house.

“Not enough.” Is all he can reply.

──── ₊˚⊹ ♰ ⊹˚₊ ────

[poptartcat]

Curtis Gang Speaking Headcanons

I’m bored so I’m sharing my headcanons

Dally

Had such a thick NY accent when he got to Tulsa that it was hard to decipher. Slowly turned into a weird mix of a lighter NY accent with the occasional southern word. It was doesn’t come out when he’s mad; it comes back out when he’s sad, so the only Pony hears it again after Dally loses it when Johnny dies. Chronic cusser. Also throws slurs.

Johnny

His voice is usually a bit raspy. Not overly so, but like he just woke up from a nap since he doesn’t really talk. He’s got the lightest southern accent (aside from Dally, but Dally doesn’t really count). Cusses casually/when he thinks it fits. He and Pony have the best singing voices

Steve

Second lightest accent (ignoring Dally ofc) His voice is a little rough, but more from his tone (which is usually annoyed sounding) than his actual voice. He gets mistaken to constantly be in a mad mood by people who don’t know him. Cusses the second or third most.

Two-Bit

Shortens and softens his words a lot (soft on the g’s, t’s and h’s more specifically). Probably the highest pitched voice of the gang, which isn’t too high, but high enough. He has that squeal-like laugh though. Actually cusses the least. Partially because he’s used to getting scolded for cussing in front of his sister and partially because it just doesn’t fit what he’s saying (saying the f word 3 times while making a joke just kind of dampens it, y’know?)

Soda

Soft, so he never really sounds angry. Kind of when you shake a wind chime. you hear the melody and it suddenly doesn’t sound so bad. But he’s still the loudest, aside from maybe Two-Bit (no one’s ear drums have recovered from the duo shrieking singing along with the radio) His o’s sound more like u’s. Probably has the second worst southern accent. His vocabulary's actually pretty good, since Darry and Pony tend to use/know bigger words.

Darry

Got a heavy southern accent from their dad. The heaviest in the gang. He’s always trying to hide it because he wants to be taken seriously. You can usually tell his mood/feelings based on it (doesn't bother to hide it when he’s mad or exhausted, tries but fails when he’s sad or disappointed, etc). Really good at articulating though, and he kind of code switches between greasers and pretty much anyone else. Has the deepest voice.

Ponyboy

Third heaviest accent (The Curtis parents had accents and so did all their family, neighbors, and fellow churchgoers so theirs are the heaviest). Second highest voice. Occasionally cracks and he hates it. Has trouble getting ideas out because he does have the vocabulary, just can’t phrase it naturally. Has the biggest vocab and gets made fun of when he pulls it out in front of the gang. He and Johnny have the best singing voices. Cusses second or third most.

[imausteja]

ೀ SODAPOP CURTIS DATING HEADCANNONS

warnings: not proofread

an: i kinda hate this but i really wanted to write something about soda because he’s my favourite character by far. also sorry this is so rushed

- he always greets you by wrapping an arm around your waist from behind🥹

- he definitely calls you the cheesiest nicknames like “sugar plum” or something corny like that

- he LOVES sleepovers.

- and if you’re having one at his house he will make pony sleep on the couch just so you two can have a little gossip sesh before bed

- on the topic of sleeping, soda is such a deep sleeper. like mouth wide open, and always in the weirdest positions. i think if a plane crashed into the house he wouldn’t wake up.

- is absolutely terrified of spiders and WILL make you catch the massive spider in the corner of the living room.

- always makes sure his hair is perfectly greased before any dates (even though you like it better ungreased)

- and if you don’t, he loves hearing you compliment the perfect swirls he did (with the help of darry of course)

- honestly such a compliment fisher but in a cute way

- like for example if he beat steve in an arm wrestle, he’s immediately asking if you saw how strong he is

- comes to your house to ‘help you study’ but he doesn’t know a thing about the properties of an angle so he just sits there occasionally passing you your ruler.

- never cusses but if he gets REALLY mad he starts swearing like a sailor

- honestly starts saying words you didn’t even know existed

- but it doesn’t get that angry often so it’s okay

- loves taking you on double dates to the drag race with evie & steve

- you guys are like the power couple of tulsa. everyone knows you’re together no matter who you ask

- overall, he’s the cutest sweetest little thing

[dallysdolly444]

Can you write Dallas x curtis!sister? It’s my fav! Thank you☺️

pretty little baby.

summary: dally wasn't the kind of guy darry, or even ponyboy and soda wanted around their sister. but he'd be there anyways.

warnings: smoking, fem!reader, tooth aching fluff my boy deserves some fluff, lmk if i missed anything <3

dallas was at the curtis house as usual, darry was making dinner, steve and soda were arm wrestling and ponyboy and johnny were reading. no one was paying attention to him, so he snuck off to your room, as he often does. he leans on your doorframe, watching you put your hair curlers in.

you look up, and smile. you actually smile? god, you always smile. he loves that every time. anyone else would tell him to 'get lost' but you just smile. "hi dally" you say, with a kind smile. like he isn't just some hood. like he deserves respect.

he grins back at you, not in the kind way he kind of wants to, but in his dumb sleazy way that he does. "hey doll. whatcha doin there with your whole rolls an' stuff" he says cooly, walking over to pick up one of your rollers.

instead of smacking him away, scolding him or getting angry, you just laugh and let him check the roller out. "i'm doing my hair. oooh, dally, can i put one in your hair?" you offer sweetly, looking up at him with those big eyes.

"no way, i ain't a girl" dally scoffs, sounding offended. but, despite saying that, he sits down on your bed, almost wanting you to put the curler in anyways. when you just nod and don't even push, he sighs. "fine. jus' do it. don't go tellin' anybody 'bout this, alright?" he scoffs, looking away.

you smile sweetly, climbing over to sit in front of him. you straddle his legs, making his heartbeat speed up. he stares up at you, his eyes taking over that puppy-like quality usually only seen with johnny. you gather some of his hair, curling it up with the hair roller. he chuckles, seeing himself in your vanity mirror. "you look so cute, dally!" you declare with a giggle when you're finally done.

dallas rolls his eyes. "i look like a damn pansy" he says, going up to scratch his hair. when you pull his hand away, he drops it, not wanting to piss you off. "what's next, ya gonna paint my nails or some shit?" he scoffs, sarcastically. he doesn't want to, but if you wanted too, he'd let you.

you smile proudly. "i think you look pretty" you tell him, grabbing some hairspray to set the curls, watching as he coughs. funny how a boy who smokes more than a chimney gets all sensitive over some hairspray.

"yeah yeah, call the damn beauty parlour why dontcha?" dallas scoffs, picking a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket, lighting it up. he takes a drag and lets out the smoke, angling his face away from you so he doesn't blow his smoke into your face.

it's one of the things you've noticed recently. he would always blow smoke in peoples face, never yours. "hey, how come you don't smoke in my face? i'm not complaining, but you do it to everyone else" you ask curiously, sitting down next to him on your bed.

dallas pauses, leaning back. "don't let it get to your head, curtis." he scoffs. "i just... ain't polite to smoke in a chicks face" he mutters. "your ma taught me that" he says, chewing the inside of his mouth.

he remembers the day clearly. he had been smoking inside the curtis household last year, smoking a cancer stick. he was stinking up the house, and mrs. curtis was always one to call him out on it. "dallas put that thing out" she had scolded.

"why should i?" he scoffs, blowing the smoke out in her face. that night he was forced to make dinner for the whole family, and it sure taught him. he still smoked around the house, but he would never blow it in a girls face.

you looked up at him, remembering how your mother and dallas had gotten along. she liked him, she always was the kind of person to take in strays, and dallas was one of them. you smiled slightly. "well, she taught you well" you say, holding eye contact with him. dally felt as if you could see everything about him.

that's when the door opens. darry was checking in on you, making sure you weren't getting up to any trouble. he frowns, seeing dallas in your room. he chooses to ignore the rollers in dallas's hair, but he doesn't ignore the fact that dallas winston is alone with his sister. "what're you doing in here?" he scolds, crossing his arms.

"jeez, darry, cool off" dallas scoffs, shuffling away from you. "am i not allowed to hang out with her now?" he asks, leaning back. "cmon, man. ain't like we're doing anything" he scoffs, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing out the smoke.

you just nod. "yeah, cmon darry. i haven't hung out with dally in ages" you say, and you're not wrong. darry has pretty much dragged dallas away from you at every cost. you cant really blame him though, everyone knows how dallas is.

your brother sighs, knowing there isn't much else he can do. "whatever. just leave the damn door open, and no funny business, winston" he says coldly, leaving the door open as he leaves.

dallas grins at you "you know why he don't want me hanging out with you, yeah?" he asks, lying down on your bet, getting all comfy. "i ain't a good influence, doll" he says, resting his hands behind his head.

you smile. "we're friends though. i'd be a fair-weather friend if i stopped hanging out with you just cause darry doesn't like it" you point out, lying next to him.

dallas just smiles. it sure feels nice to be wanted, doesn't it? you talk for about an hour longer, eventually painting dallas's nails a pretty pink, no matter how much he protests and groans. you take the rollers from earlier out, and he really likes it, you can tell. even when he scoffs and says he 'ain't no pretty boy'. but you told him he looked handsome.

you only smile when you notice a few of your rollers are missing after he goes home, especially when you realise how his hair is slightly curled every day since.

authors note: tysm for ur request! requests are sooo fun. i hope this was to ur liking anonn! btw i just hit 250 likes! tysm for all the people who helped me reach this milestone, it's crazy how well this it going :D

lots of love, dolly x

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

There is a a newspaper clipping from when Johnny killed Bob, MURDER is written in big letters on it with Johnny and Pony’s names circled, there is a note with it.

HE SHOULD HAVE DIED TOO

All the money is missing from the tip jar

He rips the paper up immediately, huffing and backing away. He doesn't bother to look at it, let alone go near it after he's read it. Ripped up and done with.

“What-fucking-ever.” He grumbles, before wandering off to the shop part of the DX to find Steve.

“What's up with you?” Steve questions, meaning it more lightly than it came out.

Soda merely grunts in response, taking out a cigarette and leaning against the wall, covered in tools.

Steve raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't question it with how easily he can tell Soda's pissed off. And he goes right back to work.

The two sit in silence for a bit before Soda tells Steve what happened, and Steve tenses up almost immediately. 'Yeah, I'd be pissed too' he probably replies.

Eventually, after talking for a bit and Soda and Steve pat each other on the back, Soda's calmed back down and came back to the counter to ease his mind with hopefully a better question...

[goingdelux18]

Behold:

A thing

The chore chart appears a couple weeks after the death of Mr. And Mrs. Curtis. The creation of it comes after countless arguments about people pulling their weight. You do your chores and you get a gold star. They boys claim they don't care about getting stars but it quickly becomes a contest on who gets the most. (Winner gets a treat at the end of the week) (Pony steals the stars out of the junk drawer but absolutely denies it, it becomes obvious though when magically him and Johnny have more than anyone.)

The chores are assigned randomly and switch at the end of the week. Darry writes them on masking tape for easy transfer.

Dally ripped the chart in a fit of rage after Darry yelled at him for not vacuuming one week.

Every week is a new angry note written on cardboard in the spot where his stars are supposed to go. He did his chores one week because Johnny was sick and he didn't want johnny to strain himself but otherwise he ignores the chore chart.

There are certain chores they are better at than others. Two-Bit isn't allowed to vacuum after he tried to vacuum up beer caps instead of picking them up by hand. Steve and Soda had to perform emergancy surgery on the vacuum.

The chore chart is another way the gang searches for consistency in their new life. It causes bickering but brings comfort.

[alaskan-wallflower]

i think people forget ponyboy isn’t the only one who grieves johnny and dally.

soda was a wreck for months, but he’d keep it in. he’s obviously a little unstable, especially given his status as mediator. part of his breakdown was fueled by grief. sodapop, who runs the shower blazing hot just to feel that sting of reality, who only cries when he’s sure no one can hear, because he’s thing to keep up an optimistic facade. soda grieves, just not visibly.

darry saw johnny and dally as his own flesh and blood. everyone in the gang is like a little brother to him, and he starts doubting himself too. if he couldn’t save johnny and dally, then how the hell is he supposed to save his own baby brothers? he works to push those thoughts away, he starts taking double, maybe even triple shifts just to push down the pain he’s feeling. work is his outlet and on his days off he can barely get out of bed, consumed by his own thoughts and fears. he grieves, just not audibly.

two-bit loses himself in his alcoholism. if gets significantly worse after the two die. two bit always struggled with self esteem and self worth, and used humor as a way to cope, but even now, he can’t do that. it’s all a persona, and him screaming at johnny’s mom in the hospital is testimony to his cracking facade, the mask is falling, and it’s fading away at a speed he can’t keep up with. he’s losing himself, and the only thing that can mend the tears is alcohol. he becomes dependent on it order to survive, in order to feel like he matters.

steve shuts down emotionally. the only thing he can see from dawn til dusk is red. he’s angry. he’s angry at the socs, for starting this in the first place, he’s mad at the cops and the justice system for trying to rule in the rich people’s favor. he’s mad at himself especially for not having gone with dally, for not having done anything to save johnny or dally. he’s livid with himself for not going after dally, and for wallowing in his own sorrows because of johnny’s death. after johnny’s death things were a blur, but he wishes he had been stronger emotionally, because if he hadn’t broken down like a pansy, maybe dally could’ve lived. maybe he could’ve saved him. steve deals with survivor’s guilt and extreme emotional damage, just nobody bothers to see past his anger to see the hurt underneath.

they’re all grieving. it’s not just ponyboy.

[callme-holly]

Hello!! Maybe you could write headcannons with the gang that have a s/o who’s getting picked on? Thank you!!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐒/𝐎 𝐖𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐧

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I go back to school in like 2 days... yay, im so thrilled... Also I'm so sorry this took be so long to get to, my inbox is crazy right now but I swear I will get to everyone eventually !! Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 864 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mentions of being jumped and fighting, that's it

Darry Curtis - 

If Darry found out you were getting picked on by someone, he would go mental

Like he’d be pissed

He’d instantly want to know who it is who’s giving you trouble 

If it’s the socs bothering you you best believe he’s walking everywhere with you 

His concern would go through the roof 

Darry doesn’t strike me as a typically violent person but if whoever is bothering you decides to jump you/cause you any physical harm, you best believe he’s starting something 

If you’re upset, please let him take care of you, it’ll help calm him down somewhat

Sodapop Curtis - 

If Soda finds out someone’s giving you trouble, he’ll instantly feel guilty

He takes it as his job to look after you and by someone hurting you either physically or verbally, he can’t help but feel like he’s let you down a little

He’ll get Steve to track down whoever it is who’s picking on you; you won’t have to worry about them anymore <33

He’ll cuddle with you for ages to try and make you feel better (although it’s mainly to help reassure himself that you’re okay) 

Much like Darry, Soda will walk you everywhere

This boy will not risk leaving your side and if anyone so much as looks your way, he’s giving them a dirty look and pulling you in the opposite direction 

Ponyboy Curtis - 

Pony will feel horrible and a little annoyed when you tell him you’re getting picked on

If it’s the socs giving you trouble, he’s mad

He’ll walk you to and from places and will try to comfort you best he can

If it’s kids from school, he’s got your back 

Pony will defend your case no matter what and if someone so much as says anything about you, he’s shutting them down with some smart comment real fast

And if you get jumped? Oh boy, he feels awful 

He knows what it’s like to get jumped first hand and he’d never wish it upon anyone

He’d get Dallas to have a “word” with whoever it is bothering you and chances are, you won’t see them again after that 

Johnny Cade - 

Johnny gets so upset when he hears that someone is picking on you but he also gets really angry 

Like, you don’t deserve anything bad that comes to you and he will do anything to protect you

I feel like people really down-play his character like, come on ya’ll, he literally stabbed someone to protect his friend 

If he sees someone giving you grief, he’s standing up for you 

He wouldn’t start a fight, no, but he’s definitely let them know what's up

If you get jumped, he’d comfort you in a heartbeat <33 

You two have got the whole gang backing you both up, so there really isn’t anything to worry about when you’re with Johnny 

Dallas Winston - 

Oh, Dallas… 

When he finds out you’re being picked on, he’s asking for names, appearances, addresses - you name it, this boy wants it

He will fight for you and he will make sure that whoever it is that’s bothering you, learns their lesson

And if you get jumped? He’s arranging a rumble and dragging in the Shepard gang to back him up

He’d walk you everywhere, and I mean everywhere

If you think he’s leaving your side for even a second, you’ve got another thing coming 

He’s got an arm around your waist, your shoulders, his hand in your back pocket and if anyone so much as talks to you, he’s standing behind you, glaring them down

He’s defending you in a heartbeat, no matter who the person is that's giving you grief 

Needless to say, nobody messes with Dallas Winston’s girl, and he’s willing to let everyone know just that 

Steve Randle

Much like Dallas, Steve is asking for names almost instantly 

He will not hesitate to fight someone for you

He gets so defensive on your behalf and will become insanely protective over you

If someone has said or done something to you that really bothered you, he’s comforting you and going after the person in a heartbeat

You’re his number one priority and he wants you to be happy at all times 

You think he’s leaving your side? Nope, no chance

He’s gonna be one step behind you at all times and if he catches anyone giving you problems, they’re in for a rough time 

I’m telling you, he’s shooting everyone dirty ass looks 

If someone so much as says “hello” to you, Steve will be coming up behind you 

“this person giving you trouble, babe?” 

He’s just looking out for you 

Two-bit Mathews - 

The second you tell Two-but you’re being picked on, he’s smothering you with love

He’s not letting you go at all 

He doesn’t want anyone making you think you’re worth less than you are 

Secretly, he’s super pissed that someone would even think to mess with you and if he sees them, he won’t hesitate to confront them 

He’s taking you everywhere you need to go, no complaints <3 

If you get jumped, he will not hesitate to help fix you up before tracking down whoever hurt you

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[damthosefandoms]

au where soda and johnny killed bob instead of pony and johnny but like you gotta hear me out for a minute (or more, this is a long one) cause it’s also an au where pony’s a little younger, he’s like ten or something and he’s out here thinking he’s oh so cool and big and tough now that he’s finally hit double digits, but like he’s ten and not even a quarter. he’s still not allowed to walk home from school alone, not when his parents were still alive and not now—two-bit always walks his little sister home and pony’s just included in that now.

and so when he sneaks into the movie theaters he’s really gotta sneak. he tells molly mathews to go ahead and leave at dismissal, he’s staying after for… chess club, or something she’d have no idea about, to tell her brother he’s gonna call for a ride later. and he’ll get to see whatever he wants to see because he’s small and quiet and nobody notices, and when he doesn’t call home for a ride later, he’ll get jumped by the socs and they’ll scare him but it never really gets out of hand. not usually. they oughta be more careful, he’s just a kid, and maybe when he got his neck cut up that one afternoon he should’ve known it was a sign.

he tries not to cry ‘cause he’s scared and only gets a little embarrassed when darry puts a bandaid on the cut, and he tries to steal a cigarette off dally but is caught like usual—“you gotta be at least thirteen for that, kid.”—and he only stops to listen in for a minute when soda mentions they’re going to the game tonight.

but steve says no kids allowed and pony whines and johnny says “aw, pony, you’ll find something to do.” and then dally brings up the drive-in, and pony’s eyes light up and he looks over to darry and practically begs his brother to let him go, and darry says alright. cause pony’s still a little kid and his fourth grade teacher doesn’t give homework on fridays, and as long as he stays with johnny and dally, and as long as the movies that are playing aren’t too grown-up, and as long as he’s home before his curfew and so on. pony and darry get along just a little better here because that bigger age gap—ten and a half years!—really puts darry into always having been more of an authority figure in pony’s life. and if you can’t tell, this story isn’t supposed to be about them anyway, so it’s fine.

the drive-in is fun. they sit behind a couple of girls and when johnny convinces dally to leave her alone, one of them asks if he’s soda’s little brother and lets him talk and talk about whatever he wants, and her name is cherry valance and offers to buy pony a pepsi so of COURSE he takes her up on it. there’s a couple of socs milling around the concession stand and one of them calls cherry out asking why she bothers babysitting the little grease stain and she rolls her eyes and grabs his hand and pulls him into line with her and he’s still yammering on about whatever’s on his mind thinking “wow this cool teenager is listening to me!” because none of his friends—his brothers’ friends, really—are like that. well, they listen, johnny and soda specifically, but there’s something so different about when you’re a kid and somebody who you don’t see as being obligated to listen to you, does. like he’s seeing there’s people out there like him, people who are older and wiser, and that’s just—it’s nice. especially for a lonely kid like him.

anyway. so there’s a lot of whispering that night. dallas winston hitting on cherry valance, she’s hanging around with sodapop curtis’ little brother, and two-bit mathews and that kid johnny cade they beat up last spring, and you know, it’s gossip, it’s like playing telephone. by the time it gets around to guys like bob and his friends, the story’s been twisted. and they’re drunk. and angry, because cherry and marcia ditched them, and well. that confrontation during the walk home still happens. except maybe when cherry refuses to get in the car, she dumps bob then and there. they don’t even bother fighting. cherry tells bob he’s insane. what does he think she’s doing, cheating on him? pony’s a little kid! she remembered hearing how his parents died. she had gone to school with his brother, you know? ponyboy seemed quiet. kinda sad. she was just being nice.

but that’s not really what bob’s all worried about. ‘cause when cherry ditched him at the drive-in he and randy got wasted and headed to the football game and word on the street there was that as of that night, sodapop curtis is single again. bob’s sober enough to remember the way girls talk about that kid and drunk enough to jump to conclusions ‘cause he knows even cherry isn’t immune to that charm. especially not later that night when one of his buddies who stuck around at the drive-in tells him they overheard cherry call soda a “doll.” and that she was hanging around his little brother.

and then. bob and the socs leave, with a threat or two thrown in the direction of the greasers, and two-bit and johnny walk the girls to a payphone to call for a ride, and then they walk pony home. they make sure he gets in the house all good, in the door before darry can even be worried. he’ll tuck the kid in and pony will ask him to stay because soda’s not home yet, but he’s older and as far as darry’s concerned soda uses his head. he probably just went over to sandy’s for the night. no big deal. two-bit goes home. johnny heads home but decides to wander the neighborhood for a bit because his parents are nuts and he’s still spooked from the socs and all. and it’s cold, you know, the gang will get on him about sleeping in the lot and soda and steve told him where the key is to the garage at the dx where they work on the cars, and their boss is nice, he turns a blind eye sometimes to johnny finding shelter for the night there every once in a blue moon. so he starts walking.

meanwhile, soda’s having the worst night of his life (well. second worst. his parents are dead.), he’s a heartbroken fucking mess, walking home from the football game alone because steve and evie ditched basically right after the four of them got there and. you know. sandy is leaving for florida. leaving him. whether she wants to or not. whether he loves her or not. he’s taking the long way home, walking all alone in the dark despite his better judgment because he knows darry will be mad at him but doesn’t really care. darry just worries, soda knows that. and honestly he thinks if he had to sit now—in a car, or just go straight home, whatever—he would go insane. so he’s walking. and he’s thinking about sandy, and how he can get her to stay. he could marry her. his kid or not, whether she asked to be in this situation or not, he loves her, and he thinks hopes dreams that she loves him too. and he’s been hiding his mom’s engagement ring in one of the toolboxes because darry wanted to sell it when their parents died and pony wanted to bury it with them and soda was being selfish and never wanted to part with it. he was gonna use it one day. maybe that day is coming sooner than he thought. maybe things will be okay. so he keeps walking.

they meet in the parking lot. johnny fills soda in on the night he’s had, mostly cause johnny jumped a mile when soda called his name, and nearly pulled his switchblade on him. “can’t be any worse than mine,” soda mutters, and then he’s rooting around in his pocket to see if he’s got any spare change ‘cause he figures johnny’s probably hungry and soda doesn’t like to take things from the dx conscience store without paying—he works there, he’d be stealing from his own paycheck—and that’s when the color drains from johnny’s face and soda follows his eyes to the road. a blue mustang pulls into the parking lot. it’s packed with kids soda hasn’t seen since he dropped out of school last june. socs. and one of them’s got three big, clunky rings made of probably pure gold. worth more than his mama’s engagement ring, that’s for damn sure.

and in the end soda doesn’t even know what they were fighting over. something about stealing bob sheldon’s girl? trying to? soda doesn’t even know who the guy is dating. he hasn’t really spoken to any girls except sandy since they started dating, not like that—other girls have tried talking to him, sure but they just aren’t her and even if they were like sandy, who cares? he’s in love—and he’s a little lacking in the gossip department. that’s what happens when you drop out of high school and work full time at a gas station. again, at the present moment, the only girl he cares about is sandy. he wonders just how drunk bob is—he can smell the alcohol on his breath a mile away. man, this is why soda doesn’t drink. he gets stuck in his emotions enough as it is; he doesn’t need help feeling. he doesn’t need help acting on it either.

and johnny’s there. his buddy, his friend, who started shaking in fear four months ago and hasn’t stopped since. there’s a cold look in johnny’s eyes and soda feels that familiar rush in his veins. soda’s a good fighter, you know. he’s never lost, not really. not when it counted. but he can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s never fought for his life before. it kinda feels like it now, but then again, everything’s tinged red, this feels normal. to him anyway. this is how he’s always felt in a fight. adrenaline coursing through his veins like it’s all he was meant for. like it’s all he’s good for. sometimes it feels like it is.

next thing soda knows, bob’s foot is slamming into his bad knee—the one he permanently messed up years ago at the rodeo, because of course he did, everything he loves leaves him eventually—and it buckles. he crumples to the ground. something smells like gas. well, they’re at a gas station, makes sense. the hose from the gas pump is being wrapped around his neck and he can’t breathe and people are laughing, and for some reason he thinks to himself in the moment, “man, i hope nobody lights a cigarette. that would suck.”

he only blacks out for a few seconds but when reality washes over him, the socs are gone. all but one, in the ground. there’s blood and gasoline pooling around where soda’s kneeling next to the body.

body. oh god. soda wants to be sick but he thinks he’ll choke again if he throws up. his neck and throat hurt real bad. come to think of it so do his knee and his head. johnny looks green and his hands are covered in blood. so’s his knife. so’s bob sheldon.

johnny grabs him and yanks him up and soda tries to scream but it hurts too much to even whisper. johnny says something about going to dally’s. they just run, or do the best they can ‘cause soda’s knee is killing him, until they get out towards buck’s and soda wants to ask “what’re we gonna do, steal a horse and ride off into the unknown? you killed a guy, johnny!” but he doesn’t because it’s not gonna help at this point and soda knows that. he also knows johnny saved his life. he oughta be grateful.

dally agrees to get them the hell out of town, but not before soda demands some paper and a pen. he’s gotta tell his brothers something—especially cause now he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see them again.

he doesn’t know anything. except that somebody died because of him and maybe also that there’s no way he’ll ever get to marry sandy now. and maybe just maybe he can never go home again. and for a guy like soda, a person who stays—that’s the worst feeling in the world.

soda just wants his brothers. and for all he understands everybody, right now he’s got no idea what to do with poor johnny cade.

seven hours later ponyboy is sitting on the living room couch with two-bit, eating cereal and chocolate cake (he’s a growing boy!) and watching saturday morning cartoons while darry swears at the leaky faucet in the kitchen, and then steve crashes through the front door.

“thought you were working this morning?” darry asks, not that interested, but more to make conversation and because he’s tired of that stupid kitchen sink. and steve goes “where’s soda?” and darry’s like, “sandy’s, I’ll bet. he never came home last night.”

except steve shakes his head. “he’s definitely not at sandy’s.” “why not?” “they broke up—” everyone looks over, but steve barrels on. “you’re sure you don’t know where he is?” darry nods. he forgets about the sink. “what’s going on?”

“got to work this morning, and the boss was standing out there, pissed as all hell. entire place was taped off. cops everywhere. i heard one of ‘em talking. somebody found a body last night—”

pony spills his cereal bowl. darry doesn’t even notice. pony doesn’t either. neither of them breathe until:

“—said it was that soc kid. same one who cut up johnny’s face. bob sheldon.”

and what the hell are these boys supposed to do now?

[curlyshepardconfirmed]

Steve Randle was an important character and he has such a deep meaning to me you guys just don't get it. He was expressive, he wasn't just an asshole and I feel like everyone tends to forget about that. He cared in SUCH a deep and important way about his friends. Don't believe me?

How about when he saw Johnny after he got jumped and felt so intensely upset that he fell to his knees and had to muffle his own groan because he understood Johnny's pain better than anyone because he too suffered abuse at home?

Sure, Johnny hadn't gotten the pain from his father that day, but there had to have been nights where Steve was kicked out and Johnny was on his way to the Curtis' after his dad clobbered him and their paths crossed and they walked together and talked together because they both understood the other on a separate level than the rest of the gang could

How about when Steve almost crumpled with a sob when he saw Dally get shot? How about when Steve would've fallen if Soda wasn't there to catch him?

There had to have been a serious connection between Steve and Dally (I don't personally ship it but if you do, yk, you do you ig). They were both angry, they were both bitter. Ponyboy points out a lot of their similarities, how Dally's just violent because of his past in New York and how Steve's anger comes out in the quiet bitterness of his words. There had to have been nights when Steve wandered by himself and ran into Dally before he made it to Soda's house, or nights where maybe Dally was on the couch before Steve even got there, and were both up long after Sodapop, Ponyboy, and Darry went to sleep, or before the rest were awake.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

So…angry crier Steve Randle.

  He hates it, but when he’s really pissed/overwhelmed he gets teary. And it kills him, because he’s tough, he really is, and he shouldn’t cry like this. His dad used to tell him to grow up, to stop being such a baby, and you’d think that’d train it out if him, the way Steve trained himself not to feel bad about being Soda’s uglier meaner sidekick. But all it did is make him hate himself even more when he does cry.

  He cries when Dally dies, full on watery sobbing for the first time since he was fourteen, but he cried earlier that day too when arguing with his dad about something stupid. Not sad, emotional tears, but irritated tears that welled up in the corners of his eyes and made his voice thick and only served to frustrate him because now the old man won’t take him seriously. 

  When he gets mad at Socs he can hide it, by coughing loud and squinting and sneering the way he would anyway regardless. Besides, when he’s fighting physically he has an outlet and tears just don’t rise up all that much. But when he’s arguing with Dally about stupid things at Buck’s at night, and he needs to think with words, his eyes get red and watery. It’s mortifying. Steve’s learned he needs to do things like punch walls or throw bottles so folks don’t forget he’s a threat, so Steve can take himself seriously. He can’t turn it off and he hates it, and it makes him even angrier. 

  Soda doesn’t acknowledge it when Steve angry cries, he doesn’t try to comfort him. Soda just lets him rage. And Steve doesn’t know how to say it, but he’s so grateful for that.

Just yeah, idk, angry crier Steve Randle.