arebelwithacause

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Evie warmup sketch

I think she works at the DX occasionally with Steve and Soda, like during summer and whatever. Is that historically accurate necessarily? Noooo…do i think it should be true anyhow? Yes

anyhow I don’t expect this to get many notes, but I had to realize the vision of DX jumpsuit Evie or I’d never stop thinking about her you dig?

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Thinking about how since Steve and Bob are parallels that if the story went the 'opposite' way (for lack of a better word) and Steve got killed by some soc kids then EVIE would have Cherry's place in the novel and people would probably hate her just as much as they hate Cherry for no reason and she would probably have a line about how Steve could be sweet, and other folks didn't know him like she did, and Soda would talk about how he was the best buddy a guy could ask for, and idk I just can't stop thinking about it

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Darry: Wow, I feel happy and I’m having so much fun!  Darry: Darry: *narrows eyes* Something’s wrong here.

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two-bit: trust us, dar. have we ever put you in an unsafe and uncomfortable position?

darry: all the time.

dallas: then you should be used to it.

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THIS is absolutely everything to me!!!! And is exactly what I feel is wrong with the Outsiders fandom and their perception when it comes to female characters in that Universe. Remember this doesn’t also just apply to Cherry,Sylvia, Sandy, and Marcia!! This is also applies to everyone who have villanized Angela Shepard too. As a lower class WOC it does bug me heavily when people reduce the greaser girls to being terrible people. These girls are victims of not only there economic system BUT also the time period and struggles they face simply for being girls. Ya’ll CANNOT glorify and put the Greaser boys on a pedestal and then proceeded to diminish the female characters (both Soc and greasers). Because That to me tells me ya’ll did NOT read the same book I did.

Misogyny in the fandom: let's talk about it

Not gonna lie, the level of interalized or even just blatant misogyny in this fandom is really disheartening sometimes. There is already VERY few female characters in the book, even fewer with speaking roles, and yet I see all of them being hated on in some way. People hate on Cherry for standing up for herself when Dally was harrasing her, and for not seeing Johnny in the hospital, which bullshit to begin with but also, you can't tell me that if the roles were reversed and Cherry sat down behind Dallas and starting talking about how stupid and classless greaser boys are, and Dally threw a coke at her, that the fandom wouldn't love him all the more for it. People hold her to this impossible golden standard, expecting her to literally be perfect instead of a conflicted and grieving teenage girl, when they embrace the flaws and give a lot more grace to much more violent and 'bad' male characters. It's a very 'boys will be boys' and 'girls mature fatser so they should know better' double standard that I really can't stand. Marcia gets a level of the same treatment, with people occasionally calling her vapid or shallow when the book makes it clear she and Two-bit actually really hit it off, and the number she gave him being fake was only Two and Ponyboy's speculation. But I digress. Moving on.

Misogyny and classism intersect when it comes to the few female greaser characters we get a little insight on. So many people LOATHE both Sandy and Sylvia because they're cheaters, but honestly, how is cheating worse than stealing? (And don't pretend they steal because they need to survive Ponyboy makes a point of claiming Two-bit doesn't really need or want half the stuff he shoplifts) How is it worse than jumping little kids? How is it worse than sexually harassing girls? How is it worse than the plethora of immoral or illegal activities the greaser guys partake in? If we're being 100% honest, it isn't. "But-but Sandy cheated on Soda, who really loved her". Yeah, she did. That was shitty of her, I'm not defending that, but she was also a sixteen year old girl in a tough situation she was trying to navigate the best she could. She could have lied and told Soda it was his and trapped him in a marriage raising a kid he definitely couldn't afford if she wanted to- but she didn't. Hell, she told him the truth and he was still ready to do that and she wouldn't let him. I don't think those are the actions of a completely terrible person, I think they're the actions of a scared kid who did some shitty things, but is trying her best and trying to do better. At the VERY least they're the actions of a multifaceted character who deserves the same level of grace and insight afforded to the male characters. (If anyone wants to read more of my thoughts on Sandy and her narrative importance, I have a post here). There's also something to be said about the poor 'greasy' girls facing harsher vitriol than the soc girls, and while part of it is because of Ponyboy's biased narration, it's clear to see that readers very much took his views at face value. Soc girls are 'good girls' and have to be perfect to deserve credit from the fans, but greasy girls are 'trashy' so it's ok for them to be judged and shit on. Spoiler alert: it isn't.

Sylvia is similar to Sandy in that her cheating and 'loose' behaviour earn her a lot of hate, which again, I'm not defending her cheating, but we need to give her the same analysis and benefit of the doubt given to Dally. Dally is NOT a good person. Ponyboy says this and makes it clear plenty of times. He's a hurt character, so we can explien why he is the way he is, but he isn't a GOOD character. he values loyalty, so he never cheated on Sylvia, but it's clear based on how he treats Cherry and casual comments he makes that he doesn't really respect women. I can't imagine Sylvia's experience dating him was one where she felt very adored. Again, not an excuse for cheating, but I can understand WHY she'd try and take back power within a dynamic and a society where she never had any, and I don't want to vilify her for that. She's also a poor woman growing up in the sixties- the book makes it clear life is hard enough for poor guys griowing up at that time, but it was probably equally if not more hard for poor women. I think, like the gang, she does what she had to to survive. If you can understand why the gang does bad things, and still be humans who can be considered good, you can extend the same understanding to Sylvia (and Sandy.) I think people need to also keep in mind that everything we know ABOUT Sylvia (and the rest of the female characters) we know from Ponyboy, a fourteen year old boy who's narration is INCREDIBLY biased and who doesn't have the full details of any of the relationships in the gang. Ponyboy sees Sylvia and Sandy as these terrible, loose women who have hurt people he cares about, so a lot of the fandom does too, but it doesn't change the fact that by doing so you're accepting and embracing Ponyboy's internalized misogyny and making it your own.

Anyway, I don't think I'm articulating this as well as i want to, and i spoke a bit more about this in this reply to one of the posts on the confessions page, but yeah, I just wish people could accept that fact that if they bend over backward to find ways to defend or explain immoral actions from male characters, but refuse to even attempt to do the same for female characters, they've probably internalized a bit of misogyny they should maybe work on.

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Fem Darry being a teacher would actually explain a LOT on why her and Ponyboy fight so often. Imagine having to work 8-5 everyday, except that 8-5 job is filled with you arguing with kids the whole day. No she will NOT be changing your grade, you didn’t read the rubric like you should have. You earned that F for all she cares. No Don’t ask her about late work, because she will Not accept any of it. For god sakes writing a four page essay is NOT going to kill you.

Then on TOP of having to deal with bratty kids all day, you have to come home to a moody teenage girl who acts like she’s in the 1960’s equivalent of Euphoria.

Like…I think i’d wanna throw down hands with that 14 year old too. 🤨

(Side note: I LOVE the idea of a Fem Darry working at Ponyboy’s school. Ponyboy lucks out to not have Darry as her teacher…But a Fem Curly and Male Angela?Oh boy…brace yourselves ya’ll..)

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Recently I sent in an anon to @alittlebitofloveliness about my interpretation of a female Dallas Winston! So I thought I’d expand my insight on the parallels/contrast between fem Dally and fem Darry.

Now Dallas Winston in the book reeks of toxic masculinity and the ideas of what masculinity was at the time. That being said FEMALE Dallas Winston would to a certain extent portray toxic femininity as well. Except Dallas would NOT adhere to the feminine standards of the time. As stated in the book, Dallas isn’t a physically attractive person, not in the way the Curtis Brothers are. It’s one of the reasons Dallas as a character is treated much more harshly than anyone in the gang.

A female Dallas as a result of not being attractive would probably take the route of “not like other girls” or whatever the equivalent of that is in the 60’s. It doesn’t help matters that she doesn’t have any strong female role models to look up too or to help her navigate girlhood. To make things worse she’s not pretty, or slim or tall the way a Fem Sodapop or Darry would be. She’s short,curvy, and is HIGHLY opinionated. All traits that many people would not approve of the time. I’m not necessarily saying she’d be plus size, but I do think she would be viewed that way at the time considering she has curves to her, which would be frown upon during the time. You also have to remember that anything pre 2000’s (really pre 2010’s) considered people who had curves to them, to be overweight.

(Ahah…good old 2000’s with its body shaming 🫡)

Back to the point! Dallas as a result of not being seen as physically desirable, I think would heavily reject femininity as a result of not fitting into those standards. BUT also the way she grew up comes in to play as well. She’s seen the way that the women around her got treated by the men in her lives. How the girls she played with at recess were sexualized at a frighteningly young age. How those girls would later end up in abusive relationships, or some would end up in less that savory jobs. I like to think that also would play a huge part in her rejecting femininity as a whole. Seeing that at a young age would horrify Dallas, to the point she flat out rejects being seen as feminine. She’s seen what happens when you fit into those standards and she refuses to conform as a result.

(Fem Dallas definitely reeks of internalized misogyny)

Dallas in turn carry herself as loud,opinionated, and would refuse to dress conservatively. I think she’d be a tomboy with a girly streak. Not completely masculine, but definitely not girly either. She’s stuck in this middle ground due to rejecting anything feminine growing up. To pull from movie examples she’s a mix of Janis Ian,Kat Stratford, and DEFINITELY Natalie Scatorccio from Yellow jackets.

I do think a fem Dallas would look down on girls who do embrace being soft and girly and sweet. She would find them to be stupid,weak, and would just add them to the list of reasons of what’s wrong with their society. Though this also stems in part due to her own jealousy. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, I feel like there are times where Dallas wishes she could be seen as delicate and soft. Which is why I think she has a soft spot for fem Johnny, because yes Johnny is sweet and loves everything feminine, and in a way is everything Dallas CAN’T be. Though their dynamic in this universe is gonna be saved for a later rant.

Now that I’ve established how I would view a Fem Dallas…now let’s discuss my thoughts on a Fem Darry in this universe. As we all know Darry is the golden boy of Tulsa. As a girl this would not change, except she’d be seen as the All American girl. She’s tall with long and slender legs, lean and flat chested. In my mind she looks like Julie Newmar did, just maybe a little bit more leaner. She would definitely check off all the boxes on how a women should act and look like at the time. She’s outgoing,sweet, and doesn’t really voice her opinions out loud. BUT In the same way that Darry doesn’t necessarily act like a toxic male, Fem Darry would not act like a submissive housewife. She values her education and strongly believes women are made for more than being a wife. She craved to get out of Tulsa and to have a proper career for herself. She had dreams bigger than being a mother and a housewife. But things changed when her parents died. She lost any hope of going to college and making something for herself. Instead she’s stuck working in a domestic field the way that most women were at the time. Nurses,teachers, and secretary work were the only real career paths at the time. So I imagine Darry most likely went on to be a teacher here.

Unfortunately for Darry, she has no choice but to play along with society’s rules. Especially if it means being able to support her sisters. She HAS to smile, and be sweet and patient even if she feels like yelling most days.She has to act prim and proper, and wear skirts. Even if she desperately just wants to wear pants.She’s trapped by societal norms in the same way Dallas is. The difference is that Darry uses her femininity to her advantage, while Dallas actively fights against it. Both are representations of femininity in their own way. I think as a result of how both girls act they often clash most of the time. ESPECIALLY when it concerns handling Ponyboy. Darry what’s Ponyboy to have an easy time in life so often she projects certain standards/views on femininity onto Ponyboy. Whereas Dallas often encourages Ponyboy to go against those standards.

Anyway I could go more in depth but I think that pretty much covers my own take on the Genderbend Outsiders Universe. I hope this makes sense to ya’ll!

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Whenever I see Tarry fics, it always makes me happy to read because y’know what? Yeah their not a perfect couple by any means but Tim and Darry get each other in a way most people don’t. They understand having to play the role of both brother and father. Of wanting to do more for their siblings, but can’t due to circumstance. They keep their families together even if they don’t always believe that themselves.They’re path together is filled with bumps but they’ll figure it out in the end because they always do.

Then contrast that with Paul and Darry and yeah…there’s no way those two ever had a chance. Paul has too much anger and hate inside, and Darrel loves the gang and his brothers too much to ever leave them.They’re falling out was bound to happen and bound to be nuclear when it did. To the point that whatever fond memories they had of each other became ruined beyond repair.

MEANWHILE theres Keith Matthews and Darry, two boys who are opposite in every way. Two-Bit is the lost boy who seems set on being forever sixteen. Whereas Darry ‘Superman’ Curtis has had to grow up in ways the other boys didn’t. The two grew up side by side, closer than even Steve and Soda at one point. Yet when High school hit things changed in ways neither of them expected.Darry grew up to become the Golden Boy of Tulsa,the Captain of the Football team, and furthermore one of the few greasers who has a chance of leaving Tulsa. The kind of guy that everyone is desperate to follow after.

While Keith Matthews becomes Two-Bit, a no good greaser to most who causes all kinds of trouble. Who’s too lazy to even clean up after himself, much less try hard in school.The two play their roles so perfectly that from an outsiders perspective you wouldn’t even know they were friends. They both know better though, especially when on certain nights Two-Bit sneaks into Darrel’s room. The two laying together and whispering all sorts of secrets to the other. On those nights Darry starts to act more his age and smiles, the same smile that makes Two-Bit feel things he know he shouldn’t. It doesn’t help that when Darry laughs at one of his jokes, he can feel something stir deep inside of him. Especially when he looks at him with such soft eyes, to the point that Two-Bit thinks he’s prettier than any blonde he’s ever fooled around with.

When the Curtis parent’s die, things shift between them once more. Except unlike in high school where they could wait for each other, one day Two-Bit turns to find Darry’s miles away from him. Both physically and mentally, Darry’s older in a way that Two-Bit could never be. He has more important things to worry about now, and Two-Bit understands like he always does. Except Two-Bit has always been wiser and more observant than Darry when it comes to people. He knows whatever they could have had, can’t ever happen now. Especially since Two-Bit is too self aware of himself to know that he won’t ever be the partner that Darry needs. Not this Darry at least. This Darry needs someone that can support him, not someone to take care of.Yet that doesn’t stop him from trying as he’s desperate to hold onto Darry for as long as he can. Trying to crack a joke or two to see just a small glimpse of that smile of his. Trying his hardest to try and remind Darry that he’s still there.Until the day he eventually gives up and stops waiting for him.

The two care and love each other BUT I can’t ever see them lasting as a couple. Honestly them even becoming a couple is a huge stretch. They’re not just best friends, but they’re not quite a couple either. They are a secret third thing that they could never figure out. Unfortunately for them they spent too much time trying to find the answer,that the small opening for them has long since been closed. Don’t get me wrong their still friends, but they can’t ever be anything more.

(P.S: this was heavily inspired by the very long rant I sent to @pumpkinsy0 about these two. Their a real trooper for reading it all 🫡.)

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Fem!PaperCut fic

Like most of my work this is unbetaed and so probably has some typos

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“Detention, Miss Curtis.” 

Ms. Sinatra hands her a now familiar pink slip, shaking her head in a way that’s more disappointed than surprised, and Pony does her best to look contrite, ducking her head to hide a grin.

She’s gonna have to quit doing this soon. For one, Darry is gonna lose her head when she finds out how many detentions Pony has got this year, and for another she’s running out of new ideas of how to get detention in the first place. She’s fortunate Ms. Sinatra kind of holds a grudge against her for what happened during the fire drill last year- which wasn’t her fault, ok? It wasn’t.

Ms. Sinatra goes back to the lesson, talking about Boo Radley this and symbolism that, but Pony isn’t really listening. Instead she looks down at the two slips of paper in her hands, one pink and the other a ripped piece of lined notebook paper, with the most chickenscratch handwriting she’s ever seen. 

It only has one word written. Well, one word and two kisses.

Detention? xx

It’s enough for Pony. 

***********

Tuesday’s are the only day of the week track practice takes place during lunch instead of after school. When the bell rings, Pony makes her way to the changeroom, slipping out of her skirt and into her track shorts before following her teammates out onto the yard. The track is 400m of packed dirt covered in gravel, chalk lines fading into dust. Their school district is far from the riches in the district, and what little funding they do have for sports usually goes towards the boys football team instead of varsity track and field. Pony doesn’t really mind, Be it dirt, gravel, or pavement, she’s never yet found a track that didn’t let her feel like she’s flying. 

Her sister, Sodapop, doesn't get it. Jenny, Dalia, and Two-bit don’t either. Even Darry, who had been captain of the cheer team before she left school, doesn’t understand what exactly the track team means to Pony. 

Because it’s everything.

The feeling of her feet digging into the track, her hair flying back and fighting to escape her ponytail, lungs burning as she forces herself faster, for once not having to worry about being ladylike or pretty, free for as long as she’s running. Sometimes it feels like if she runs far enough or fast enough she could run away from everything. Sometimes, when she’s nearing the end of a race, pushing herself faster than she’s ever run before, she can almost pretend for a moment that it really is all behind her, can leave behind the reality that mom and dad are gone and nothing will ever be the same as it used to be.

No wonder she’s set five personal bests already this year.

She stretches while the coach scribbles on his clipboard before sending them on an easy 800m for warm up. Pony pumps her legs, sticking close to the middle of the pack- unlike some people, she feels no need to try and show off. At least not until the practice races.

As she rounds the first bend she spots a familiar head of dark hair under the bleachers. The girl, wrapped in a leather jacket, a cigarette stuck between her red painted lips, catches Pony’s eye and grins, a cheshire cat smile with a gap in the bottom front teeth that never fails to steal Pony’s breath away, just a little bit.

She forces herself faster, pulling ahead of the rest of the team, which earns her a few dirty looks from the seniors. She can’t bring herself to care..

After all, it can’t hurt to show off a little bit. Right?

************

Antonio Shepard has to be one of the scariest people Pony has ever met. She’d never admit it, because greasy girls are supposed to be tough, but the guy’s cold blue eyes and the jawline that could cut glass would make him intimidating even if he wasn’t the leader of one of the east side’s scariest gangs. 

He’s also, as it turns out, scarily protective over his twin sister, which Pony supposes would be sweet,if it didn’t mean he spent every class they spent together staring at her like she was a puzzle he was trying very hard to figure out.

So what, she and Curly are friends? It doesn’t mean he needs to be weird about it.

Then again, Curly is the strangest girl Pony’s ever met. It makes sense her brother would be too.

In any case, Antonio’s surveillance makes geography a class that is very hard for Pony to concentrate in, something that is going to be a problem pretty soon if she fails the midterm and her grades start slipping. If Darry finds out she’s struggling in geo as well as math she can kiss the track team goodbye. And no track team means no letting Darry think she has track practice after school Tuesday, which means no Tuesday detentions, which means no hanging out with Curly for two hours completely uninterrupted. 

Yeah, she really can’t afford to fail the midterm.

She’s copying down the different layers of the atmosphere, wishing someone would pull the fire alarm like Two-bit and her treat of the week had a few weeks ago, when something small and damp hits her in the back of the head.

Annoyed, she brushes the spitball out of her hair and tries to ignore the snickers erupting from the back of the class as best she can. She’s dealt with plenty of annoying teenage boys in her life. Usually, the best reaction is no reaction, and if this is Archie Towsend’s latest shitty attempt at flirting with her she might actually lose her mind.

Five minutes and seven spitballs is all it takes to ruin her resolve. When a spitball lands in her ear, she whirls around just quick enough to see Antonio hide his hollowed out pen under his desk and adopt an innocent expression.

Pony sees red.

When she comes back to herself she’s holding another detention slip and Antonio is smirking at her, his snake-like eyes amused, even as he wipes the water she’d dumped over his head off his jacket.

Pony fumes for the rest of class. She is so gonna set Curly on him. 

********************

The reason Tuesday track practices run during lunch is the same reason why Tuesday is the only day Pony tries to get detention consistently, no matter how many notes or bribes Curly slips into her locker or gives her between classes. On Tuesdays, the principal, who usually oversees detention and makes students scrape gum off desks or some equally unpleasant task, goes home early to play in his intramural softball league, and so the track coach Mr. Duvall takes over. Now, Mr Duvall is deeply dedicated to his role as track coach…not so much to overseeing detention. 

When Pony gets to the detention room there's only three other people there. Most folks have figured out by now that Mr. Duvall often forgets to take attendance when he’s in charge of detention.

“Alright there, Curtis?” Mr. Duvall greets when she steps into the room, “You aren’t the type I’d expect to see in detention.”

He says that same thing almost every week, and every week he seems to forget he’s seen her in detention before. Pony is starting to wonder if the guy’s memory is really that bad or if the rumours of his pill problem have more wight than she initially thought.

“It was a misunderstanding Mr.Duvall,” she tells him, giving her most winning smile, and he nods absentmindedly. 

“Right, right. Well, you’re the last person on my list I think, so keep these folks in line for me, will you? I’ll be back in two hours to make sure you’ve all stayed the whole time.”

Then he leaves.

Pony snicker as the two greasers in the back of the classroom promptly open the window and climb out, leaving it open behind them, presumably so she and Curly can follow if they want to. It’s sort of gallant, she thinks. Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.

She doesn’t spend much time dwelling on it as she makes her way towards the only figure left in the classroom. She has no intentions of going anywhere, at least not for the next two hours. Not when she’s alone in a room with Curly Shepard for the first time in a week. Curly Shepard, who wears oversized baggy jeans- boys jeans- instead of skirts, and who always gets Pony in trouble, and who smells like cigarette smoke and dirt but somehow doesn’t ever truly smell bad. Curly Shepard, who’s more accurately described as handsome than pretty for all she’s a girl, and who Pony is pretty sure she’s starting to fall in love with.

Curly, who is currently hunched over a desk and not giving Pony the time of day.

Fuck. That.

“Watcha doin’?” she asks, hopping onto a desk right in front of Curly. She’s wearing a skirt, and it rides up a bit at the motion, something that would usually be guaranteed to not only capture Curly’s attention but distract her for a good few minutes, but Curly doesn’t even glance up.

“Just gimme a minute, doll.”

“You go through all this trouble,” pony drawls, “Slippin’ a note in my locker and comin’ to spy on me durin’ practice earlier, and now you can’t even give me the time of day? Darlin’ I got detention for you, a black mark on my shiny school record, and another one for dumpin’ a water bottle on your brother, dontcha think I deserve a reward for all that trouble?”

That at least makes Curly quirk an eyebrow, even if she still doesn’t look up from whatever she’s doing, and working very hard to hide behind her jacket sleeve.

“You dumped water on Tony? What’d he do?”

“Spitballed me.”

“I’lll put a frog in his bed tonight.” Curly promises, and Pony grins.

“My hero.”

“You know it, doll.” 

“If you don’t start payin’ attention to me I’m gonna follow them boys right out that window.”

“Jesus you’re impatient, y’know that? Here I am tryin’ to listen to you and do somethin’ romantic for once since you’re always sayin’ all I care about is kissing, and here you are actin’ all desperate.”

Pony rolls her eyes. “And what’s so romantic about ignoring me?”

“I’m not ignorin’ you,” Curly finally looks up, her gaze catching on Pony’s bare thigh before she forces herself to meet her girlfriend’s gaze, “I’m makin’ one of those gestures you’re always going on about, like that time you brought me soup when I was sick. See?”

She moves her arm and Pony finally sees what she’d been working on. There, carved roughly into the top of the desk, is a slightly lopsided heart with the initials P + C in the middle.

“This way there's proof we exist but no one to get us in trouble for it.” Curly says, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. She fidgets with her switchblade, flicking it open and shut while Pony’s eyes fill with tears.

“Oh Curly…”

“You don’t like it,” Curly swallows heavily, and Pony can see the way she’s trying to hide her hurt, “it’s ok, it was stupid anyway-”

Pony pulls her into a kiss.

“It’s perfect.”

Curly melts under her hands, trying to duck away and hide her embarrassment, but Pony refuses to let her, instead staring into her blue, blue eyes.

“You’re a real romantic at heart, ain’t you Curly Shepard?”

“Shut up.”

“You are.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

“I mean it,” Curly threatens, “or I won’t kiss you for the rest of the day.”

Pony snorts. “I’m wearin’ my yellow skirt. You won’t last ten minutes without kissin’ me somewhere.”

“Wanna bet, pretty girl?”

She’s never been one to turn down a challenge.

“Y’know what?” Pony sticks her chin out, fighting a smile, “Sure.”

Curly makes it four minutes and Pony’s skirt riding up a bit before she loses the bet. Neither of them really mind.

Two hours later Mr. Duvall returns and lets them go, thanking them for being responsible enough to serve their full detention time. Pony walks beside Curly back to the east side, wishing she was brave enough to reach out and take her hand. 

She already can’t wait for Tuesday detention next week.

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The day I decided to write and publish Two-Bit and Darry angst, is the day it’s all over for ya’ll.

[arebelwithacause]

Party Animal- Shepard sibling fic

The party is everything Curly expected it to be, loud but not in the rowdy, violent way he’s used to, but rowdy in a way that said no one here was ever worried about getting busted by the cops- probably because they had buddies who were cops. Instead of smoke and cheap whisky, high end cologne hangs heavy in the air, a smog Curly is unused to making it tough for him to even breathe. 

Whatever. It’s not like he’s planning to be here long. Hell, he never wanted to be in the middle of a super soc hangout in the first place but Angel really is a unique kind of demon sent straight from hell to have him hiking his way into his own personal hell.

“Hey grease,” Some asshole in a green madras shirt steps in front of him, “the fuck are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be slashing someone’s tires on your own side of town?”

“Fuck off,” Curly growls, shoving hard at the dude’s chest. Maybe it’s not the smartest thing he’s ever done, instigating a fight in a den of socs but the fury coursing through him at the moment makes him feel like he could kill the lot of them easily. “Where’s my sister?”

“Oh,” the guy’s eyes gleam, “you mean the party favour? I think I saw Carl and a few of the other guys bring her upstairs a few minutes ago.”

“Motherfucker!” Curly’s fist connects with the guy’s face, and the familiar crack of cartilage under his fingers is simultaneously satisfying and does nothing to quell the fury raging through his chest. Blood spurts from the soc’s nose, quickly ruining his too expensive shirt and the only thing stopping Curly from finishing the job and absolutely flattening him is the knowledge that Angela is somewhere in this house alone with Carl Langton and who knows how many other assholes from the football team.

Maybe he should’ve brought back up for this. Then again he didn’t exactly think in the time between finding out where Angela had snuck off too and practically kicking the door in.

“Angel!” The soc seems to be steeling himself to swing back, but Curly is already gone, tearing up a nearby staircase as shouts and gasps of shock echo behind him. “Angel! Goddamnit Angel, where the fuck are you!”

He’s properly deranged now, can hear it even himself, as he kicks open doors and tears down hallways, switch clenched tightly in his fist. The fuzz might show soon, but ain’t no one in the house right now that’s stupid enough or brave enough to cross him. Good.

The last door he kicks open reveals four or so socs. Three of them are laughing and jeering, while the fourth is practically on top of Angela, kissing her so deeply his tongue must be halfway down her throat. She looks tinier than usual surrounded by all of them, and while she jumps when the door bangs open, Cury can see the glimmer of relief in her eyes when she sees him, mingling with panic and under that, a current of rage, hiding her embarrassment. 

A fresh wave of anger floods through him at the sight, something he didn’t think was even possible. Whether it’s directed at Angela or the socs he doesn’t know.

A quick slash with his switch leaves one soc howling, and the rest hurriedly backing away, unwilling to bring fists to a knife fight. Angela swallows, eyes wide. Curly can see the terror in her eyes and it just about kills him. The knowledge that some of it might be because of him is too much for him to bear.

“We’re leaving,” he seizes her arm tight enough to bruise and drags her out of the room, ignoring her spluttering until they’re safely outside. It’s not until they’re halfway back to the eastside that he lets his grip loosen and allows her to shake her arm out of his grasp, grumbling under her breath. The fact she doesn’t yell at him tells him she knows just how badly she messed up.

“Here,” he shrugs out of his jacket and shoves it at her, all too aware of the fact she’s in her skirt and bra and nothing else, even though he’s still so angry he can hardly stand to look at her. Those assholes. He doesn’t want to think of what would’ve happened if he’d been even a few minutes later. Hell, he doesn’t want to think about what already happened by the time he did get there. And he especially doesn’t want to think about how Angela went there on purpose, all by herself.

Angela seems to recognize that quiet is the best she could hope for right now, zipping up his jacket and plodding along silently beside him until they’re almost back to their street.

“Don’t tell Tim.”

The words are like bellows stoking the rage that had steadily been cooling inside him, causing it to flare once again, red hot.

“Don’t tell Tim? Don’t tell Tim that you ran headfirst into a party full of socs? That you chose to go get yourself taken advantage of?”

She scoffs. “I had it handled.”

“Yeah, it sure looked like it when you were locked in a room with half the football team! Jesus Angel, what the fuck did you think was gonna happen?”

She doesn’t answer, which means she knows that whatever she thought was whimsical wishful thinking, the kind of hoping none of them can afford. He’s kind of glad that for once she’s got nothing to say, because he is far from finished.

“Did you really think they invited you there for any good reason? Were you really so stupid? Or did it just make you feel special, being asked to a party no other east sider would ever get close to?”

She’s crying now, which is terrible in a different kind of way because ANgela never cries, not really, but tears are pouring down her cheeks and her entire frame is trembling, a glossy sheen making her eyes glitter in the moonlight and it’s still not enough to quell the anger in his chest. 

“Do you ever get tired of wanting things you can’t have?” He finally stops, chest heaving, because that’s the root of it isn’t it, that Angela was a girl born wanting because she never had anything in the first place, so everything in the world will never be enough for her. She’s a princess in the east side, a demon in her own right, has respect and reputation, the most the east side has to offer and yet it still isn’t enough for her, not by a long shot. No wonder that soc guy could manipulate her so easily. The promise of something better could lure his sister into anything.

Curly hates it and in that moment he hates her too, because Angela has never been stupid, not like him. She’s pulled a lot of stupid stunts in her time, but never ones this particular brand of dangerous. It can’t happen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Angela’s voice breaks and suddenly Curly’s anger evaporates just like that, because Angela is never sorry for anything she does, so this really must have broken her. “I’m so fucking stupid. I’m sorry.”

She’s crying and shaking and in that moment her pain is somehow more important than his own fear so he wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and she leans against his side, tears quickly abating. She’s still shaking though, bad enough he can feel it even through the thick leather of his jacket. 

He’s still angry with her, furious even, but it’s late and he’s tired and she’s safe. They can fight it out and deal with the rest of it tomorrow. He can’t accept her apology, but he can’t yell at her anymore either.

“C’mon Angie,” he murmurs, and resumes walking, “let’s go home.”

They walk the two blocks and then climb through their window, careful not to wake Tim or ma. Curly immediately crosses to his own side of the room and flops up on the mattress, fully ready to sleep until at least noon the next day. 

He’s almost asleep when he hears the whisper, so quiet he’s not sure he’s even supposed to hear it.

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Anytime,” he promises, and he means it. He’ll always be here for her. Anytime.