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theysayalltheworldsastage · 8 days ago

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@cherrycolacowboy okay so more on my earlier headcannon. and also just to add i am normally not a modern au girly but i do really love this au a LOT. anyways. for anyone not following, this is a headcannon i have about a the A HELPING HAND AU

Soda has ADHD and Dyslexia. Does he know this? Maybe. Do most people in his life know this? Yes. But if you know the Curtis house, you know they don’t have the money for that. It hurts though. It hurts the people who love him to see him hide behind a mask. To know what’s going on in his mind (they don’t know half of it) and not be able to do anything about it.

Sure, Paul had heard this hurt from Darry before. But he never expected this. He didn’t except for his chest to ache so much.

Paul has become used to Soda following him around the house, talking about everything on his mind. He’s used to the kid never sitting still, and having trouble reading. He’s used to the range of emotions he has. But also the smile always on his face. And the jokes he makes out of everything. Even the times he shouldn’t have to feel like the mood needs to be lightened.

To an extent, Paul has learned how to deal with this. How to not outwardly express his exasperation and exhaustion because he knows it’s nothing Soda can be at fault for. Chet and Soda have a lot of differences, but also a lot of things that Paul can tell are in common. Maybe Chet’s more quiet, but he has to always be moving. Doing something. Maybe it’s fidgeting with something in his hands, or walking in a circle around the coffee table twenty times.

Paul has also learned that when Sodapop Curtis gets quiet, it isn’t right. When Soda stops trying, and when he doesn’t even attempt wearing a smile on his face, or to focus on something other than his mind, it feels wrong.

So one night in spring, Soda had been slowly spiraling. He was getting quieter, and he was going between staying in bed all day and walking to the park, near the tracks, around the neighborhood. He was either still or constantly stirring.

Yes, Chet noticed this. Started holding him extra close. Darry made sure Paul was keeping an extra close eye on him. Pony realized the signs. But he was never quite sure how to comfort Soda the way he had comforted him all these past years.

Ponyboy and Sodapop had always been like little brothers to Paul. To an extent. But lately they have been his brothers. They were a family now. The gang had been spending more time at Paul’s house too. So he didn’t miss the way that Steve was hanging around a little bit more. Or how on the days that Paul couldn’t get Soda out of bed, Ace would drag him to the park to sit and get some fresh air. He was real grateful for them. But a hopeless feeling started to claw at his chest. It felt the way that Darry had described it to him many times before.

Eventually Ace couldn’t pull him out of bed. Steve started to get angry. Twobit looked concerned. Pony really did try, but to no avail. Darry would spend hours sitting besides Sodas bed, but couldn’t get him to say a word. Dally and Johnny had even tried what they could. Nothing.

One night, everyone was at their own places. Most nights someone was staying over. But not tonight. Ponyboy was sleeping in his own room. There was soft rain you could hear throughout the house. Paul was walking into the kitchen when he saw Soda. The kid was just sitting on one of the wood chairs, staring. It was hard for Paul to tell if there was a lot of something, or a lot of nothing behind those eyes.

“Soda?” The kid turned to Paul. And he started crying. He looked at Paul with the same sadness that the older felt inside his heart. Maybe sadness wasn’t the word. Maybe it was worse. It definitely was. The younger just shook his head real slowly. And as tears were still falling down his cheeks he spoke.

“I don’t know Paul. I’m so tired of this. My mind isn’t normal.It’s not, I’m not fucking normal. Something is messed up but I don’t know what. I can’t read and. I can’t shut up and I dont know something isn’t right, Paul. Something isn’t right. What I feel isn’t normal. And no one understands. I mean, I don’t really understand, but no one understands. I’m okay sometimes but my head? Sometimes it just snaps. I don’t. Paul something isn’t right. I can’t read and, Paul I need help.”

Soda was now sitting on the porch outside watching the rain fall and he wasn’t really breathing right but Paul was sitting right by him with an arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder and even though Paul didn’t say anything he knew he was there and that’s all he could ask for because his breathing evened out a little bit more and he started talking again because Sodapop Curtis just can’t shut the fuck up can he?

“And i’m just so messed up. I get angry. And I get angry when I’m not supposed to and I laugh when i’m not supposed to and why does hearing people chew make me fucking angry? That’s not normal, Paul. I had to drop out of school because I can’t read and I’m just so fucking stupid I can’t read or do math and all the words just go everywhere and that’s not normal, Paul. I need help I need fucking help but I don’t know something isn’t right and my heart hurts and I just. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be like this Paul. It’s not fair. It isn’t fair what did I do to be like this? It’s so stupid. I’m just so fucking. It’s not fucking fair. It’s not fair, it’s not fucking”

And not he had his face in the older boys shoulders and he was hiccuping and he was crying because Sodapop Curtis is a real fucking mess isn’t he?

And maybe Paul wasn’t the best with words. Not like Soda. Soda could find words and a way with those words for every thing. Paul is sure he could find a word for the feeling that he felt right now. Because he sure as hell didn’t know how to explain it. But it was horrible. And it wasn’t something good. He couldn’t imagine was Soda was feeling right now! But he knew that whatever Soda was, he wasn’t stupid. And curse whoever made the kid think that. Curse the world for giving Soda those thoughts. Because truth be told, he might be the least deserving people of a mind that feeds him those words. Sodapop Curtis is the light and joy of this world. No one would get by without him. So yeah, maybe Paul wasn’t good with words, but he was good at being there. So that’s what he did. He sat with Soda. He didn’t hush him, he just let him cry with the rain. Paul cried with the rain too. Because this was his brother. And he would die for him. Paul Holden would fucking die for Sodapop Curtis. Because they were brothers. And that’s what brothers do.

It was a learning process. For both of them. Soda asked for help a bit more from here on out. Because letting those words out helped ease his mind just a bit. And Paul worked to get someone for Soda to talk to. Get him some medicine. (Though this is another story. Soda refused to take medicine for a long time. He was scared that it would change his mind. And he wouldn’t be him anymore.)

But this wasn’t the end. Things didn’t only go up. Because he had more breakdowns. Some of them were slow. Some of them were filled with anger, others with sorrow. In fact, the next one after this was scary for everyone. There weren’t any signs. He just snapped. He. Just. Snapped.

But one thing didn’t change through it all. Paul was there to protect him. And for that came a feeling that Soda wasn’t quite sure how to express in words.

not perfectly written. am i the biggest fan of this writing? nope. but i like the concept. so this is what we’re working with rn lol. in fact, not edited at all. will i go back and rewrite later? maybe! was going to go back through and add italics to some words to emphasize some things but i’m not feeling up to that super much at the moment. but yes. it’s something

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damthosefandoms · 7 months ago

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Jumbled

(ao3 link)

Summary:

RIP Sodapop Curtis, you would’ve loved having an IEP/504 Plan.

(AKA, Soda struggles in school his whole life, and doesn’t understand why, because it’s the 1950s and 60s and getting a diagnosis for a learning disability isn’t exactly on the table. Neither is the scaffolding and support he really needs.)

Sodapop Curtis was the type of kid who sat at the kitchen table for hours on end crying over math homework until his dad got home from work and struggled to explain it to him. All that effort, and then he’d always inevitably lose it somewhere between the kitchen table that night and his teacher’s hand the next morning and all that effort would be for nothing.

Soda was five years old when he started kindergarten, at the tail-end of the summer of ‘56. He remembers his mom comforting him the night before, when he cried because he was going to miss Ponyboy who wasn’t old enough for school yet and because Darry was going into fourth grade and would be on the other side of the school all day, and Soda would never get to see him. He remembers pouting because Keith Mathews, his and his brothers’ collective best friend from down the street was going into first grade after promising Soda last year that he’d get in a lot of trouble so he could stay and do kindergarten with him (he lied).

And then Soda was just plain miserable, sitting there on the bus sandwiched between Keith and a boy a little younger than Sodapop named Johnny Cade (who lives two doors down from the Mathews’ house and Soda never sees because his parents are mean and keep him inside all day), because Darry decided he was “too cool” to sit with his horse-crazy kid brother in favor of the big kids whose mommies don’t make them wash their hair when it’s dirty and greasy and walk around with those little black switch-combs and pretend they’re the coolest kids on planet earth, ‘cause one day those combs will swap out for blades and they will be.

Probably because they are, but Sodapop doesn’t know that yet—right now he doesn’t really know or care about grease or what side of town he lives on. He is six years old and the only thing on Soda’s radar right now is that Mama promised they’d save up for him to go to horseback riding camp next summer, and that’s his biggest dream. He wants to be a rodeo legend or win the Kentucky Derby or something. He hasn’t quite decided yet. He figures he has time to parse out the specifics—he just wants to ride a horse.

They get to school, and after a particularly pushy reminder that Mama told him at the bus stop this morning to make sure Soda gets to his classroom alright, Darry points his little brother toward the Kindergarten wing. Soda takes Johnny Cade’s hand in his because he found out on the bus that Johnny is going to have the same teacher as him, and they push through the hallway of their elementary school to find Mrs. Moran’s Room Four.

Soda very quickly learns that not every kid goes into kindergarten equally. Johnny is the smallest and the youngest kid in their grade, and Soda’s the second-youngest and it only takes a few weeks for Soda to think to himself that maybe that’s why he can’t read yet. He’ll be six soon, and that’s how old Evie is. Most of the kids who live on his side of town started kindergarten when they were six, he realizes. She sits next to Soda and she’s a good reader, but she’s one of the oldest kids in their grade and so of course she’s smarter than him. Then again, Sherri Valance, who is also in his class, isn’t going to be six until next spring—kind of like Johnny, and according to the birthday chart on the wall—he asked Mrs. Moran to read it to him one day when he couldn’t sleep during nap time and she very begrudgingly agreed, so he memorized everyone’s birthdays and how old they’d be turning because why not, right?—but Sodapop finds out that she went to preschool.

He didn’t go to preschool. He doesn’t know anyone who did. He remembers Mama talking to Dad about preschool for Ponyboy this year, but Dad said something about “expensive” and Soda stopped listening ‘cause they always get sad or angry when that word comes up.

Sherri Valance can read and she’s got pretty red hair and a backpack that’s not even a hand-me-down, and she went to preschool. So did all her friends in Room Three. Soda doesn’t know anybody in Room Three but he knows that the kids his friends know in there didn’t go to preschool. Timmy Shepard was in Room Three last year with Keith. He didn’t go to preschool either; heck, neither did Keith. But they can both read now, and they went to first grade, so Sodapop figures he didn’t miss out on too much.

Until it’s the end of the year and he still can’t read. Well, you don’t need to read to go to horse camp. Soda doesn’t nap a single time that year, either. He spends his precious kindergarten naptime not-reading the book Mrs. Moran gives him to keep him busy and picking at his cot when she snaps at him to be quiet. Mrs. Moran decided the day she read his first name off the attendance sheet that she didn’t like him, and Sodapop Curtis did not like her either.

First grade is so much better and yet so, so much worse.

Soda has a very hard time on his first day, because he misses his mom, and his dad, and Ponyboy, who begged to go to school too this year but he’s still too little at only four years old and Mama’s doing her best to get him reading now. Darry is in fifth grade and seems even farther away, and Soda doesn't have recess with Keith and Tim’s grade this year, and Johnny’s in Room Seven making new friends. Evie’s in Room Eight, and Soda’s trapped alone in Room Nine. Sherri’s still in his class. On the third day of school, Soda decides her hair reminds him of cherries. She laughs, and it sticks.

The best and brightest part of first grade is his teachers. He was put in Mrs. Larkin’s room, and she’s amazing; but when he gets there on the first day, there are two teachers in the room. Miss Luft, it’s explained, is a student teacher, which means she’s learning about first grade just like they are. She’s learning how to teach and they’re learning how to learn.

Sodapop still doesn’t even know the alphabet. He doesn’t know his sounds and he can’t keep his letters straight. Mrs. Larkin has him sit with Miss Luft when he tries to write a small moment story. She draws lines in marker on his paper for him to write each word on. Every line she has to make longer than the last because he can barely fit two letters on it, and he’s pretty sure she can’t read what he wrote any more than he can.

But Miss Luft always calls him capable. She has to explain to Sodapop once a week what that word means. He does his best to remember, but he has a lot of things to remember and it gets lost in the jumble somewhere.

He hears Mrs. Larkin and Miss Luft talking, sometimes. They hide their words behind stacks of paper and turned heads but he can hear them anyway.

Reversals. Attention span. Off the wall.

“And he’s low,” he hears Mrs. Larkin say one morning. “Mrs. Bolan’s got one that low too, but at least hers is quiet.”

He has no clue what any of it means. It’s all teacher talk, he isn’t supposed to get it, and he knows they aren’t trying to hurt his feelings, but hearing it makes him feel bad anyway because they don’t talk about other kids like they do him. They don’t get those sad looks on their faces about other kids, either.

“Does your brain get jumbled sometimes, Soda?” Miss Luft asks him one day when he’s sitting at his desk, eyes red and puffy from crying because he wasn’t allowed to go to gym class unless he finished his spelling worksheet. But he can’t. He’s been sitting here for forty-five minutes, ever since they got back from recess, and he can’t. Do. It. He tries to write his letters how his teachers have shown him but they just won’t appear in the place he wanted them to, like his pencil won’t obey him when he writes. He tries to start at the top line and somehow his pencil puts itself at the bottom.

He tries to write the letters anyway, but they don’t look like he thinks they’re supposed to, and he doesn’t even know what that means because every time he looks at a b or d, or m or n or h, or—god forbid someone tells him to write the letter k. It just looks like a stick.

His numbers are just as bad. Someone’s always reminding him to put the one before the seven instead of the other way around, but he doesn’t remember writing seventy-one, he can’t even count that high!

“Jumbled?” He says in a shaky voice, still trying to calm down.

“Like mixed up. Like it’s hard to think ‘cause you got too much going on in there?” She taps his forehead and he half-heartedly giggles.

“Yeah, it gets real jumbled. All the time,” Soda says.

“I feel like that sometimes too,” Miss Luft says, and she sighs. “Like I can’t think at all some days. Like my brain shuts off without me tellin’ it to because there’s too much goin’ on and I can’t focus, and just answering one question gets overwhelming. It’s too much. But it’ll be okay, Soda, I know you got it in you. I believe in you, you hear? If I could do it, so can you.”

She doesn’t say much else, but Sodapop has never felt more seen. He cries and clings to her on her last day at their school, hating that she only got to stay for ten weeks. Mrs. Larkin is amazing and he loves being in her class, but the year just drags on and on, and towards the end of the year Soda can’t decide if school is getting harder or he’s getting dumber. Maybe it’s both.

He gets to go to horseback riding camp that summer, and he meets a kid named Dallas who he thinks was in Room Seven with Johnny. Dallas is mean. Soda finds out he’s a whole year older than him, which confuses him because Dallas is in his same grade at school.

“An’ how come I never seen you at recess or nothin’?” Soda says one day at lunch. He’s got a bologna sandwich, because his mom swears by cold cuts. Dally stole an apple out of their counselor’s lunch and doesn’t seem to have anything to eat otherwise.

“They don’t let me out much,” Dallas says. “S’what happens when you spend all your time in the principal’s office.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. Just feels good to get in trouble sometimes.”

Soda doesn’t get him, but he likes horses, and so they become friends anyway. He and Dally start getting into trouble together, and Soda kind of starts to feel like he belongs somewhere. It takes his mind off the upcoming school year, which is great, because whenever he thinks about school, he gets butterflies in his stomach.

Dallas is in Room Twelve with Johnny when they get to second grade. Usually Soda keeps track of what classes all his friends end up in, but this year, it doesn’t matter anymore. Because second grade changes everything.

Mrs. Foster is ancient. She taught Soda’s mom once upon a time, and she had Darry in her class a few years earlier. Soda thought she’d be a great teacher because Darry loved her, but Soda can’t bring himself to even pretend to like her. She asks him what his parents were on when they named him.

“On what?”

Mrs. Foster just rolls her eyes and tells him to take a seat in the back where he clearly belongs. She lets him know that she’ll be calling him by his middle name this year. At least “Patrick” is “dignified.” Whatever that means.

Later, Soda can’t keep his words from erupting out of his mouth like a volcano during morning meeting, and she sends him back to his seat with a glare.

Five minutes later Steve Randle gets sent back to his seat for shouting out, too. He sits next to Soda in the back. He’s hiding a little red toy car in his desk and they play together. Mrs. Foster doesn’t seem to notice or care. She doesn’t call on Soda a single time that year, even when he does know the answer.

She also doesn’t like that Sodapop writes with his left hand. By the time he gets to third grade, he flinches and corrects himself every time he goes to pick up his pencil. He hopes this’ll solve the problem, but it never does.

Soda struggles the whole year. Steve doesn’t, and when Soda asks when his birthday is—he always needs to know, he needs to be able to sing happy birthday to all of his friends—Steve tells him he was born in April, the same year as Soda. Soda tells him how he can’t find a single pattern proving why he’s dumb, ‘cause age doesn’t seem to matter. Sherri aka Cherry is younger than him but smarter. She went to preschool. Johnny’s younger too, but he didn’t. Steve’s older and smarter but he tells Soda that he didn’t do preschool either.

“I did kindergarten twice, though,” Steve tells him. “Well, the first couple weeks anyway. Mom and Dad wanted me to start school when I was five but then I had to not do the whole year ‘cause my mom got sick and we were too busy and then she died so I stayed home with Dad. I did kindergarten the next year when I was six. Now I got friends in third grade and in second grade.”

They agree that Soda’s going to be Steve’s best second-grade friend. They trade that little red car back and forth and Soda still can’t read very well but he’s better at it now—Mrs. Larkin worked extra hard with him after Miss Luft left to make sure he knew his letters and sounds.

Mrs. Foster doesn’t seem to care, because she pretends he doesn’t exist. It’s a miracle Sodapop gets to third grade.

But it doesn’t matter. School doesn’t matter. Over time Soda just starts to remind himself that he has Steve, and Steve is smart, he’ll help him. Soda will get through this. Sure, after third grade Johnny gets held back, and it’s only a matter of time until Sodapop has to repeat a grade too, but… but he’ll be okay. He will. Someday a switch will go off and his brain will work right and he’ll be able to do it. He hasn’t failed yet, that has to mean something, right?

He hasn’t failed yet but no one has noticed he struggles, not his teachers, not his friends, no one. Maybe Miss Luft, but he’ll never see her again. He hopes she still thinks he’s capable. He had written in the book their class made for her that his favorite thing about her was that she believed in him.

As he gets older, he wonders if she even remembers his name.

But then again, he spends every weeknight crying at the kitchen table, physically unable to get past the first question on his homework sheets. In fourth grade Mama starts clearing everything off the table to help him focus, but he picks at the crumbs left behind from last night’s dinner, peels up the dried finger-paint Pony splattered everywhere, sits and rocks back and forth with each tick of the clock.

And every day after about an hour of making up little songs and fiddling on his paper until it’s spotted with holes, he starts crying, because he can’t bring himself to do his homework. And then Pony’s in school, finishing his homework before him, and Pony is just as much of a daydreamer, so that kind of stings. Darry has seven different classes to do homework for, on top of football practice, but he gets all his work done before Soda’s even started. His mom tries to help but it makes him cry even harder, ‘cause she doesn’t get it, it’s not about the homework it’s about his brain. It’s about Soda’s brain not working like everyone thinks it should.

It’s about his big, dumb, broken brain.

Johnny can’t read either, but he can focus, he can control his emotions and not cry or scream or stomp his feet at every little sound or touch, or overreact to things that aren’t a big deal at all, he doesn’t start throwing throngs off his desk when he’s mad, and he always has a reason why he does things. Steve can’t control his mouth or pay attention, but he can read and always turns in his homework on time. Keith never does his homework ever but he’s practically a genius compared to Sodapop.

Ponyboy brings home his first-ever spelling test and their mom sticks it on the fridge with a magnet.

That bright-red 100% is going to haunt Soda’s dreams.

Every night Dad gets home at 6:00 to find Soda still sitting at the table, eyes red and puffy, and tears staining his homework and the table. He chides him for the new mark Soda’s left in the table’s surface from digging the eraser-end of his pencil into it. Soda deflates, he didn’t mean to do that, it’s just—what else is he supposed to do? He’s not allowed to get up until his homework’s done.

Darrel Curtis Sr. is a loving father and a very easy-going guy, until he’s standing there over Soda’s shoulder holding his hand—his left hand, which Soda’s grateful for but also it feels so wrong after his experience in third grade—forcing him to write in the answers because he just doesn’t get that writing it is only part of the problem. His dad loves him, he’s gentle with his touch but every inch of Soda’s skin feels like it’s on fire when his dad makes him write.

It’s not his dad’s fault, but Darrel Sr. is only human, and he hates yelling at his kids, but he has to raise his voice to try to get Sodapop to hear him above his scream-crying because it’s the only way to help him learn.

Sometime when Soda’s in seventh grade, Ponyboy asks him what his problem is. Homework’s not that bad.

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Soda, but I just don’t think it’s worth crying over, you dig?”

Soda throws his pencil at his brother, slams his history book shut, and walks out the back door. Ponyboy watches in confusion. When their mom comes in to check on them, he tells her Sodapop’s overreacting again.

Dally, who had moved away after third grade to New York but came back just in time to start seventh grade with Soda, finds him at the Pershing Park playground sitting on the swings. It’s where Soda ends up when he’s hopelessly overwhelmed by homework, or when the thought of school looms over him like a cartoon anvil. Something about pumping his legs and willing the swing to take him higher and higher takes away the sick feeling that the idea of popcorn reading Shakespeare in his fifth period English class gives him. Dally asks him if he wants to find something better to do, and a few hours later they wind up back at the Curtis house with busted knuckles and the beginnings of black eyes and they pour grease into Soda’s hair and grin at each other.

When Sodapop is sixteen years old, a sophomore in high school, his father finds him sitting at that same kitchen table, staring down over an assignment that’s asking him to write a thousand-word essay and Soda turns to his dad wordlessly, his throat is closing up, and his dad tells him to breathe.

But he can’t. He can’t. He’s going to be sick, he might actually throw up. He feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest. One thousand words. Sodapop can’t even count that high. He can’t even read Dr. Seuss. He can’t do this anymore.

“Dad, I want to drop out.”

“Aw, Pepsi-Cola,” his dad says gently that night, brushing Soda’s hair back and then pulling him into a hug, “I know you do. I’ve been talkin’ to your mother about it. We got the paperwork from the school. But I think you should think about it a little longer, alright?”

Soda agrees to try and finish out the year. His dad gets it.

His dad spent ten years listening to Soda cry over homework. His dad never called him dumb. His mom did what she could. But the only person in all his years of school who Soda ever knew really believed in him was Miss Luft, and she never came back.

He thinks maybe if he had more teachers like her, who believed in him and gave him extra help and supported him along the way, if there was something—something that made it so they had to listen to him, had to help him, had to accept that it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t read right, couldn’t focus, couldn’t control his mood swings or emotions or his volcano of a mouth… maybe he could’ve done better. Maybe if Mrs. Foster had let him write with his left hand, he could’ve figured it out.

Soda hopes one day they figure out what makes kids like him tick. What makes them struggle. He hopes one day that their schools will decide to help.

A few months after he talks to his dad, Sodapop finds the signed paperwork in his dad’s desk drawer. His parents have just been buried, and Soda can’t stop crying at the drop of a pin. He’s been skipping all his classes, but none of his teachers seem to care. It’s fine. He’s dumb anyway, a lost cause. They’ll just keep passing him up to the next grade without batting an eye at the fact that he never gets higher than a D+, no matter how hard he tries.

Sodapop will always be that one student who slips through the cracks.

He looks over the form to drop out. He figures the school will take it, if he pitches it to them as a last-will kind of situation. He doesn’t even need to ask Darry to give the okay, because Dad signed it months ago, like he had already known the decision Sodapop would make.

And he did. It’s dated that same night Soda sat at the kitchen table feeling like the world was ending and like he was dying because of a goddamn required word count.

But he knows Miss Luft believes in him, and he knows what his dad wanted, so he finishes out the school year—passes Gym and Auto Shop, too.

Soda hopes he made them proud. And now, he’ll never have to worry about explaining the dried tears on his spelling homework ever again.

#sodapop curtis #the outsiders musical #the outsiders book #outsiders fanfic #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #steve randle #twobit mathews #johnny cade #dally winston #hello outsiders fandom #in which soda experiences the adhd feeling of hours spent at the kitchen table crying over homework #and finds out his parents were in fact on board with him dropping out #and thinks schools should do more for kids who need extra help #as written by a certified teacher lol #julie writes stuff #my post

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cloversplace · 3 months ago

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modern Johnny and soda ily bc they actually got the help they needed in school and can be happy and not think they’re dumb

@natur3sf1rstgr33n @magefelixir @staygoldspiiderrah @marciavalance @sonnysimagination@polishravagingasexual @dairyfairyy @curtis-brothers-hug @penguinstuff @colequette@therealtwobit67 @far-away-from-tulsa @strxwberry-julius @fawning4leif @im14andivebeen14foramonth @chipperdipperr @stayruby @averagefandomist @johnnycademyschmookie @maxiebearz @totoroboiii @cherryonbread @booksandchaos-world @atlas-coolbean @heartsforjohnnycake

#ponyboy curtis #the outsiders #darry curtis #dallas winston #johnny cade #steve randle #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #Like I hc modern Johnny to be autistic and have selective mutism #Dyslexic sodapop Curtis ily #the outsiders headcanons #Sodas got adhd to #The outsiders modern au

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made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad · 3 months ago

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Headcanon that it’s not unusual for Soda to forget to do certain things like drink water or eat something, not because he’s trying to, but because his brain is going a million miles an hour in a hundred different directions. So different members of the gang will do things to remind him. Like if they’re at work, Steve will make sure that whenever Soda is on break, he’s eating something. Or sometimes Two Bit will grab a drink and hand Soda a cup of water to remind him to drink it. Or if Darrel has a day off and Soda is running late for work, he makes sure Soda has something to eat while he’s hurrying out the door.

#sigh #adhd soda who forgets these things you’re real to me #also this is a reminder to eat and drink water if you haven’t in a while #:D <3 #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders #sodapop curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #darrel curtis #darry curtis

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sodapopcurtis-dx-asks · 2 months ago

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howz darry n pony reactin' to the extra cash? cuz this tip jar has Been lucrative (curious if you share with steve? mighta been answered sorryy). y'reckon darry could keep to one job eventually with how it's goin?

extra if you feel up to it, how's steve doin'? any tuff cars he's been workin' or nah?

Steve's going through some of the papers he stole from Soda, so... no Soda reply for this. But Steve can answer!

Oh, they haven't got a clue. All the money Soda gets he puts it in my truck for safekeepings, and sometimes he'll move it when he gets anxious.

Like now that I've told ya where it is, he'll probably move it again.

I think they've gotten mighty suspicious though, because Darry's gettin' confused over the fact Soda can afford groceries better than he can, all while helping Pony out with his new pets.

Speaking of Pony's pets — who would've thought a cat and a full sized rat could get along so well? I dunno how the hell that kid does it, but apparently he can train animals better than no other. It's kind of freaky. He's like a wizard or somethin'.

Steve had gotten off topic and carefully realized this after looking back at what was on the slip. He let out a soft "Oh," before continuing to write.

Steve's good. As in me. I'm good. I'm off the clock right now, but I decided to ditch out of 3rd hour to come hang out here. Thankfully, my 3rd hour teacher usually ain't a snitch, so hopefully he don't mind none that I hopped out a window before his class started.

Cars as of today... nothin' sweet. But this previous weekend, I did get to work on this real tuff Chevorlet Impala. It was red, and it looked goddamn brand new by how flashy it was. I wanted to ride that thing so damn bad, but apparently it had a simple little oil leak so I didn't really get much time to ask before the guy came back to get it.

But it's cool. Just lookin' at it up close was a total experience. I need me a flashy red car one'a these days.

#steve randle who likes to talk a lot #... steve randle with adhd #I'm trying to speed run these asks and then i get caught up in typing too much 💀#in my defense it's fun so... hehe

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d1sheclectic · 1 year ago

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and if i said none of the greasers are neurotypical🤷‍♂️

#i’d be right!#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #darrel curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #neurodivergent #actually adhd

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your-unfriendlyghost · 4 months ago

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sodapop patrick curtis thoughts on my desk by the end of the week or ur DONE /j

How I feel about this character

Uh like he’s perfect and should be my wife i think

Nah but fr Soda’s one of my favorite characters ever. He’s sweet and all, but he’s so much more than that. Pony says he’s movie-star handsome, that he can go from gentle one minute to “blazing with anger” the next, that he gets drunk just on living, and understands everybody. Soda’s a Kerouac-style “mad one”- “mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes Awww!”

He’s a guy who’s sensitive but strong, a “bawl baby” who’s tough, he’s probably got ADHD and dyslexia, the school system failed him. His folks died and left him holding his brothers together by a thread. He’s pretty but not pretty enough for Sandy to stay. He might end up dying in Vietnam, and thank God that isn’t canon, but it’s still there. He’s happy to live life simply, behind a white picket fence with a wife and kids- hell, he’s thrilled to. But that’s not gonna happen, at least not for a while, because Soda is a tragedy. But he loves his brothers and his friends so much that he becomes a beacon of hope despite it all.

I love Soda. Honestly, this barely scratches the surface of how I feel about him. I haven’t even touched on the adrenaline junkie stuff or the ways he’s sometimes so relatable to me that it hurts.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Steve, and sometimes Evie.

I’ve found I’m a friends-to-lovers enjoyer, so Stevepop scratches that part of my brain lol. To have someone who’s got your back through thick and thin, aware of your flaws but in spite of them- well, ain’t that the dream? The angst of it being the 60s makes it interesting to me too, because there’s a lot of ways to handle that. Man, when I first read the book I didn’t get the hype for them at all, but idk. It clicked. I get it now.

And then Steviepop is my roman empire lol. It’s all I love about Stevepop, but Evie adds even more complexity. I like her a lot and I love writing her, and I love writing her with characters who I also love. There is absolutely no canon anything to back this ship up. But dammit that’s the point of fandom.

I will say though that I like exploring Soda’s dynamic with Sandy, but I don’t really ship them. I think the fact that Sandy left him (and I mean cheated on him, even if that can be read ambiguously) implies that there’s something about him that could be undesirable, romantically. I don’t mean cheating is good or that people deserve it, just that in this case, the idea that Soda’s an imperfect boyfriend adds layers to a character who is mostly just positives. We’ll never know Sandy’s POV on it, and I don’t think Soda will either. Sandypop to me will never have closure. That’s what makes it hurt so much. That’s what makes it relatable

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I mean honestly? Steve. I know this isn’t really fair, since I like Stevepop and all, but idk, there’s no one else who I think it could be.

Steve’s a character who’s cocky and troubled and prone to assholeish-ness, but even he loves Soda. He knows about Sandy and gets angry on Soda’s behalf at Pony for mentioning her, which means Soda can tell him- angry, tough Steve Randle- about sensitive stuff. And Soda, who I think is a little in love with everyone he meets and could have anyone he wants, sees this bastard and sticks with him. He sees the parts of Steve that Pony can’t. Parts that make him worthy of being his best buddy.

It’s been said before, but no matter how you look at it, romantic or platonic, they’re each other’s person. I don’t think I could put anyone else in this slot.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I have a few lol.

1- I see a lotta fics and takes where the whole “drunk on living” thing is a lie Soda feeds Ponyboy, and while I like that take, I do also think it’s totally possible and even plausible that Soda really doesn’t drink and Pony’s view of him (in that aspect) is right.

I dunno, I mean, I know firsthand what it’s like to just get drunk on adrenaline/excitement. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and the rush from it is better than any other high I’ve had. Thrill rides make me act as stupid as someone drinking- when I’m excited, I lose all ability to filter thoughts or fight impulses. I’ve done all sorts of dumb moves- climbing onto tables, singing loudly without knowing or caring if it bothers people, play-fighting my buddies so hard we both get genuinely injured, standing up in a convertible going down the freeway... (This is obviously anecdotal and not real evidence or anything, but like, duh. This is an opinion piece lol.)

I guess what I’m saying is that there’s a lot of interesting things that can still be done with a Soda who genuinely doesn’t drink. (Or at least not much.)

2- I love darker takes on Soda. I love when people dig into his addictive personality, his temper, his relationship with his looks/self image, all that stuff. I love his flaws, and I especially love when they co-exist with his earnest sweetness and genuine sensitivity. In a few of my fics, I’ve explored some slightly darker Sodas- Sodas who are impulsive, pent up, semi-narcissistic and occasionally manipulative. I haven’t delved deep into it or anything, and I usually keep his character wholesome, but I love it when other folks don’t.

3- I actually really like the Vietnam War storyline. I mean it hurts, but it seems plausible. I hate the idea of him dying there, but I like exploring the idea of him being drafted. Hell, maybe he even enlisted. The military is known for being a good way to earn enough money to pull one’s family out of poverty, and this paired with the flawed ideas of masculinity and strength of the time lead to a really interesting version of Soda’s future.

I’m real glad it isn’t canon though.

4- This isn’t technically unpopular but brown eyed Soda will always be canon to me. I like Rob Lowe’s Soda a lot but man….he coulda used brown contacts, yk? /hj lol

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Well I still think it’s a crime his emotional monologue got cut outta the original version of the film. Thank God for the full novel version, but man, still.

Woulda also have been cool to see him mentioned in That Was Then This is Now, but I get that SE Hinton wasn’t trying to make an Outsiders sequel really.

Idk, Soda served his purpose, I think.

tl;dr- I love him

#sodapop curtis #the outsiders sodapop #soda curtis #the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #stevepop #rambling #ask game #ask #sodapop curtis my beloved #i actually initially wanted to dislike Soda when I first read the book cos his description annoyed me #(i was newly 15 and was jealous of all boys prettier than me which is /ridiculous/ to admit but whatever)#…but i couldn’t dislike him even when I tried. he’s just so…/good/. idk soda’s such a great character #maybe not the most plot-important but he makes the book so much better just by existing. it wouldn’t be as good without him.#ALSO sorry this took a minute to reply to anon! I love Soda and I had to do him justice yk?#long post

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rileyh20 · 11 months ago

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Bonjour.

Pls, if you so kindly will, share some of your HCs?

Hello! Since ya didn't specify I will add all the HCs I have at the moment.

(I have not worked on them in a bit cuz of stuff, and I don't have that many yet)

Ponyboy Curtis:

A pyromantic, he loves fire (Until the church shit)

Has a fucking terrifying glare, but only actually glares at people when they wake him up (His poor brothers)

Should not be left alone around a stack of books (He’ll read them all in like two hours)

A really fast reader, but he reads the book over and over again to the point he basically memorizes it

Major third wheel, doesn’t matter if the ship is Jally, or Stevepop, or something else, he’s just a third wheel at heart

Definitely reads the book before he watches the movie

Sometimes when he wants to write he just can’t, so he does other things instead, but once he’s in the zone, he’ll write for hours without hearing anything around him (He’s just like me fr)

Sarcastic and sassy af sometimes (Because I want him to be, no other reason)

He likes grandma hobbies (You know what I’m talking about, the knitting, sewing kinds of stuff, crafting thingies)

He would be the kind of person who helps you get your locker unstuck when you are either too scared to ask a strong person, or you don’t want your locker beaten into scraps when you could just ask Ponyboy

Cooks sometimes, he ain’t the best, but he isn’t terrible at it (He especially does it if Darry looks like he had a long day)

Sometimes he’s the only person able to stop Sodapop from putting food dye into the food (Especially if Darry is the one cooking)

Sorry y’all, but autistic Ponyboy is what I got for you guys

Sodapop Curtis:

Gets lots of tips from women (Shares it with Steve sometimes)

Tries to understand why Ponyboy likes books so much, but honestly does not get him crying over them (He’s trying his best guys)

He was a MAJOR biter as a kid, like for no reason, just CHOMP

Has ADHD and absolutely NO ONE can tell me otherwise (Don’t even try)

Genuinely loved Sandy, and was so heartbroken when she broke up with him (Kinda canon?)

Darrel "Darry" Jr. Curtis:

Cries when needs to sign parent approval forms for Ponyboy, but if someone’s close by he tries to hold it in

Has a favorite book, it’s one his father got him before he died

He doesn’t like to read, but sometimes Ponyboy will read the book to him

Has shit eyesight, but refuses to get glasses

Darry doesn’t take care of himself when he gets sick

Darry is a fucking CLINGY person when he’s emotional (Specifically sad or stressed), like you ARE NOT able to get away from that man when he’s like that (Especially Ponyboy)

Doesn’t smoke at all so it doesn’t ruin his body

Stole a shirt from his dad’s closet before he died, it’s still in his clothes but he never wears it or puts it back

Sometimes Darry sobs into his dad’s shirt after a hard day (The shirt from above)

Impulsive biter, just like if someone sticks their hand or arm in front of his face, he wont think and just chomps on them (Ponyboy and Sodapop try to warn the others, but they don’t listen)

Nothing for Steve Randle yet

Nothing for Keith "Two-Bit" Mathews yet

Dallas "Dally" Winston:

Scared of spiders

He’s also scared of dogs

Johnny Cade:

Definitely says a few dirty jokes

I feel like he would be the type of person to have a summer job for some reason? (Ponyboy and Dally visit him at work sometimes and it’s chaos)

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theoutsiderscomfort · 11 months ago

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It feels a bit appropriate that I’m writing these while waiting for a chocolate cake to bake.

Steve Randle Headcanons

Steve has eaten a whole chocolate cake before. The Curtis brothers made the mistake of leaving him alone with a chocolate cake while they were out and came back to a empty plate

The only evidence there was a chocolate cake, at some point, was the cake all over Steve’s face

No one knows how he didn’t get sick from that amount of chocolate cake

No one makes the mistake of leaving him alone with chocolate cake again

He doesn’t like many sweet things except chocolate cake

He is surprisingly good at school. I mean he ain’t no straight a student but he can get a b if he tries hard enough. Except for mechanics. His grade is never below a A

He use to tutor Sodapop before he dropped out. He would spend hours at the Curtis household, just tutoring Soda

When he finishes school, he starts working as a mechanic and eventually opens up his own shop

This guy is AuHD (autistic and adhd)

He is always full of excess energy

Getting this dude to sit still is a task and a half. He is always moving in some way or another, unless he is asleep

His special interest since he was 4, was cars and it doesn’t change at any point

He used to love watching his dad work on his car when he was younger

He would eventually get a step stool so he can look at the engine with his dad

His dad would take him to a few car shows and Steve would just marvel at all the cars

He would be at the car show from the time it started to the time it ended, just staring at each car

All of this was before his mom left them. Which is a good segue to the angst headcanons

Steve was a oops baby and his dad doesn’t let him forget that

Steve’s parents tried to make their relationship work but they couldn’t. All they did was argue.

His mom disappeared in the middle of the night and he has not seen her since. He has heard about her new family though

He had an older sister but she hasn’t talked to him since he was 4 and she went to college

He sleeps at the Curtis household once a week since his dad always kicks him out once a week

Darry always has a pillow and blanket set out for Steve before he even gets there because you can hear the arguing down the street

Time to finish this off with a positive headcanon

He has fixed Darry’s truck for him when it’s broken down

Darry tries to pay him but Steve just runs down the street before he can

The next day there is a chocolate cake waiting for him at the Curtis household

Steve is slowly rising in the ranks of my favourite greasers

#the outsiders #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #steve randle #darry curtis #darrel curtis #dally winston #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #two bit mathews #johnny cade #sodapop curtis

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whaqat · 10 months ago

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ggghhhhh

Steve headcanons

silly guy <3

- Yes, his hair is greased 24/7 in complicated swirls, but he always has a strand that sticks up in the back. Soda calls it Charlie.

- I feel like he doesn’t have a lot of beef with Ponyboy but is just upset he’s a third wheel to him and soda most of the time. Pony is convinced this man hates him.

- likes to use car parts in metaphors , especially around socs, to make himself sound smart. (He already is)

^^^ “This guy’s more sensitive than a Crank Sensor in the morning heat..”

“Steve what the fuck are you talking about”

- manspreads. a lot.

- knows how to clean and fold clothes professionally from watching his mom.

^^^ “Darry, that technique is ass. Watch this.”

- mandated deodorant must be put on him before he steps inside the Curtis house.

- gets along with soda especially because they both yap at the same levels. Except Steve can just rant about cars for hours and soda can rant about anything for hours.

- I think he’d like white chocolate for some reason?

-type of guy to drink straight up ginger ale unironically. (Me too, Steve. Me too.)

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders steve #steve randle #sodapop curtis #headcanons #outsiders headcanons #the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders sodapop #darry curtis #sodapop has adhd forever and always #the outsiders darry

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johnnycakesswitch · 10 months ago

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rip ponyboy curtis you would’ve loved hot pockets and instant ramen

rip darry curtis you would’ve loved life360 and coupons

rip sodapop curtis you would’ve loved adhd meds

rip steve randle you would’ve loved watching tiktok car edits

rip johnny cade you would’ve loved modern medicine and hospital technology

rip dally winston you would’ve lived making quiet kid jokes

rip two-bit mathews you would’ve loved the saying ‘its all shits and giggles until someone giggles and shits’ and happy hour

Modern medicine and hospital technology 😭😭😭 evil omg 💀

#all true #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #dally winston #two bit mathews #steve randle

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theysayalltheworldsastage · 2 days ago

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Written in the Stars

You see, Ace and Soda were always close. Soda was close to a lot of people. And every person had a special bond with him. He had a special bond with each person. But Ace and Soda. They were something different. They were family. But not the way that Pony or Darry were. (Something to note is that Soda understands everybody. But he’s found over the years though, not everybody really truly understands him. Not like Ace, at least.) Ace Evans is the only person who knows that Sodapop Curtis and Chet Baker broke it off on a rainy Wednesday night.

If you asked Soda about his childhood, or a specific moments from his childhood, he could tell you some things. But likely, he would try to avoid the subject. Because a lot of things he doesn't remember. Sometimes Ponyboy or Darrel will talk about things and for some reason Soda's brain starts to hurt and tears fill his eyes because why can't he remember this? Sodapops brain is always fuzzy, but nothing makes him feel more useless than not being able to remember something so simple. A conversation he had just hours ago. A memory he supposedly shared with his momma. That one word that's on the tip of his tongue. It's all just so stupid. Stupid and fucked up.

There is this one memory, though, that he could remember clear as day. He was playing baseball at the diamonds by the school. Momma and dad couldn't afford to put him on the team with all the other second graders in his grade, but sometimes one of them would drop him off at the fields to play around. Soda remembers one of the kids that was always there too. He didn't have to go up to him and ask for a buddy. No, not this time. This time Chet Baker went up to Sodapop Curtis and asked to play ball together. Soda’s always the one to have to ask! This was the first time he felt like someone saw him.

Soda and Chet. They were some duo. Since that day in second grade that they met, they were inseparable. Soda had Steve and Two-bit and Johnny and Ace at home, but Chet was somethin special. They had this way. They didn't have to speak to know. But they did anyway. Cause Soda loved to talk. And Chet understood. Because he had to always be moving. And when Soda wasn't talking and Chet wasn't moving, that's how they knew something was wrong. Not because of what they did. The two got told a lot by outsiders that something was wrong with them. But they knew that that wasn't true!

Soda felt real dumb sometimes. A lot of times. But never with Chet. He couldn’t read. All the words and letters on the paper got mixed up. It made his brain hurt. And it felt like his chest was being squeezed real hard every time he had to read. Chet was a smart kid. He made all the grades. And normally that would make Soda feel bad about himself, but not with Chet. They had the whole universe to talk about and explore! So they didn't really focus too much on school. Only when they needed to be sad. Which sometimes Soda felt bad about being sad when he was at home with his friends. But not with Chet! Never with Chet!

This is how they grew up. Loving each other. Soda still had his family at home. His family. They would always be his family. He loved them to pieces. He had Ace, Steve, Two-bit, Johnny, Dally. He had Momma, Dad, Darry, and Pony. They were all his favorite people and he would fall apart without anyone of them. Soda was made up of these people. His family. But there was just something different about Chet. Like if he lost him, he would do a whole lot more than just fall apart.

In fifth grade Chet kissed Soda on the cheek. But they were only friends. Just best friends. A greaser and a Soc. Best friends. They didn’t talk much in school. They didn't see each other a whole lot in that building. Maybe that's for the best. A greaser and Soc wouldn't normally hang out. And hold hands. And rest each other's heads on the others shoulders. Or run along the tracks till it got dark and they could sit on the dead grass and make up stories about the stars. No, greasers and Socs don't normally do that.

Life continued like that for a while. In eighth grade, though, all the boys in their grade had girls. Soda already felt stupid enough without the problem of not being like everyone else. So sometimes when Soda and Ace walked home after school, or they went to the diner, he would pretend like they were dating. He hoped others saw them. He would hold her extra close and flirt with her a little bit too. He didn't really want that though. She didn't like that either. They both knew this about each other. One particular night after Ace and Soda split ways after sitting at the park for a little bit after school, Ace went home and Soda headed to the field. No one was there and he didn't have a bat, so he just sat on the bench. Thinking. As much as Soda loved talking, he hated to think. His mind did a lot of loops and the words and pictures turned scary and got all mixed up kind of like the letters on paper. He just couldn't catch a break from that, could he?

It was dark now.

“Hey.” Soda didn't jump from the voice. Because the person who just sat next to him couldn't be anyone but his person. He could recognize him by the way his hand felt on his leg and his smell.

“I don’t like Ace, y’know?”

“I know. Let’s head to the tracks.” So they got up and they headed to the tracks. They didn’t talk but there weren’t any street lights near them and it was dark out so they did hold hands. And once they got to the tracks they walked along them a little bit and Soda was just so caught up in his thoughts still that he wasn’t so aware of how they ended up on the grass together.

“You okay man?”

“Yeah yeah, you know how my head is.”

“Yeah I know.” A few seconds. “I love you Sodapop.” A few seconds. Lips on each other in the dark. Pull apart.

“I love you Chet. Like how I’m supposed to like Ace. I don't like Ace though. She doesn't like me neither. I promise.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don't think we are supposed to like each other, Chet. I’m a greaser. You’re a Soc.” A little laugh because to hell with that. They are both boys!

“Yeah Soda, I know. But I love you. Like I’m supposed to like Marcia. But I like you a lot. And I've never felt like that about someone but you.”

“Me too.” And so they kissed one more time. And then they laid down on the grass, held hands, and made up stories about the stars. And then Soda started crying. It started as just silent tears rolling down his cheeks, and then grew into sobs. And boy did that cause an ache in the other boys heart.

“Hey Soda?” Chet sat up, and encouraged Soda to as well. “What's going on in that head of yours?”

Soda didn't speak for a few minutes. But then he did. “I just feel. I don't know. But by golly Chet, I just feel so stupid. I’m just so stupid. And something in my head. My head is so fucking messed up. No one knows. No one can. They can try to understand but my head. My head is so messed up. It’s not wired right or somethin. I’m so stupid and somethin ain’t right, Chet. I can’t read and write, I can’t shut up, I’m always messin’ somethin up, and. And. I don't know. I like a boy when I’m meant to like a girl?”

“Oh, honey..” And Chet was crying too. He took Soda into a hug and Soda cried into his chest.

“And I really do like you! I love you Chet! Just sometimes my mind ain't so light.” Some more sobs.

“I know honey, I know.” And Soda felt so loved. So seen. It made him cry some more. And eventually the night became later and Soda suggested they head home.

“Chet, why don’t you stay the night? We can stay in my room!” Soda knew that the reason Chet was out so late is because of his father. Probably. And he had a small room, but he grew to stop being ashamed of it a while ago. Chet had slept over before and it was the funnest time ever. They were older now, but that's alright.

“Yeah Soda, that sounds nice. As long as you're sure your momma wouldn't mind.”

“Oh you know she wouldn't!”

And this continued for a couple more years. They helped each other out. They navigated life together. They cried and laughed and understood.

It’s now the beginning of sophomore year. Soda was struggling real bad in school. His head was messing with him a lot. But he learned how to mask these feelings. He learned how to be okay and make others smile. He had a part time job now at the DX. He stopped going to the diamond so much, but him and Chet still met up. They even started skipping classes sometimes. Or they would meet at lunch and go to a diner. They shared kisses and touches at night. They went to Chet’s when his father wasn't home. Chet came to the Curtis’ house a lot too. Just like when him and Soda were real little. The gang got used to having him around again. Mrs. and Mr. Curtis took him in with open arms. In fact, Mrs. Curtis probably knew. Looking back on it, Soda thinks she definitely did. But at the time, the only person that Soda was aware knew something was going on was Ace. Ace knew everything about Soda. And in return, he knew everything about her.

It took him a while to finally admit to her why he was smiling so much. Why other nights he came home kinda sad. But the summer after eighth grade, they were at the park where you could find them a lot. Soda was about ready to split and head towards the diamonds where he knew Chet would be.

“Soda. I think you have something to tell me.” Right! Yeah. Of course. Right.

“Uhhh. Man, you really have a way with words, don’t you.” Why was he nervous? This is Ace for god sake! Something in the way that she looked at him and the way that they were talking with each other earlier and the blood that they didn't quit share, but almost did, made him know that she wouldn’t care. Jesus christmas, Soda. This is Ace. She doesn’t give a shit about who you kiss.

“Soda.. please.” And she was desperate just because for the longest time they shared everything with each other. She already knew. She isn’t stupid like the others. She just wants him to be the one to tell her. To settle the small gaping hole that has started to form in her chest.

“Chet and me like each other.” Now it’s out there. In the air. “Like how I’m supposed to like you, Ace. I think we love each other. We’ve kissed. On the lips.” How inspiring.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Huh?”

“I just wanted you to tell me. I thought you were going to start to replace me and break our promise. I don’t give a shit who you kiss. I love you Sodapop.” And they were hugging now because god did Soda appreciate and love Ace Evans!

“I couldn’t replace you even if I tried, Ace. And I wouldn’t ever try that.”

“Alright Sodacan, you can meet up with your boyfriend now!” She laughed and gave him a light shove.

Boyfriend. Huh.

So now every time Chet was over at the house, Ace’s chest wasn’t quite as full of jealousy as it was before. Because she could say for sure that the bond her and Soda shared was not the same that Chet and him shared. They both made each other happy in their own unique and special ways.

Then, things got darker. The light from Sodas eyes dimmed the first bit when his parents died. But the thing is, he still had Ace and Chet, and the rest of the family. Each of these people showed up for Soda and made him feel loved and seen in these times. And in return Soda was there for them as well. And life continued. Soda dropped out of school. He continued to see Chet. They shared laughs and tears and kisses and touches. Sometimes they shared drinks when Soda really needed a distraction. Drinks and beds and bare skin. They were always careful though. Still, no one knew but Ace and maybe even Marcia. Each a sister to either one. A sister that could understand.

Chet stopped coming over to the Curtis’ after Sodas parents died. They now only met up by the tracks and Chet’s house. Sometimes Chet would skip school, or some to the DX after class to watch Soda work.

Slowly, Soda became less present. Chet couldn’t say he didn’t understand. Because he knew the shit Soda was going through. He could hardly imagine. But it made him sad sometimes. He could tell that Sodas laughs weren’t as real as before. He stopped smiling with his eyes. And that was hard. Soda started coming over a lot more at night. He came intoxicated (which was never like before). And they shared a lot more touches and bare skin. It’s nothing that Chet never consented to. He loved making love with Soda. Because he could really and truly say it was love. And it was for love. And they felt good together. They fit like puzzle pieces. And sometimes when they were done and Soda had fallen asleep, Chet would look at him and the marks on his neck and his beautiful body and he would feel so lucky. And he would hurt for Soda and the shit he had been dealt. Eventually the undressing each other and hands on his thighs and rough kissing started to feel a lot more like a distraction from that shit life. But that was okay with Chet. Because Soda had helped him through so much. Soda is the kind of person to help anyone in need, and know exactly how they need that help. And all Chet wanted was to return that favor. So he did.

Chet ran into Ace on the streets one day.

“He’s slipping away.” He said, stopping near her after they made eye contact and he knew he needed to say something.

“Yeah. I know.” She sighed a little. Of course she knew. If Soda loved anyone in life, it was Ace.

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice got caught in his throat. Ace looked at him with sad eyes.

“He‘s just. He’s not doing the best right now, Chet. He’s hardly getting out of bed. I notice him disappearing at night. Life’s been shit to him. To all of us. But especially him. You gotta understand that”

“I know that Ace!” The anger surprised him a little bit. “You don’t think I know that? I’m the one giving into his touch every night. I’m the one who keeps opening the door for him. Who smells his breath full of beer every night. I’m the one who touches him and kisses him like he wants it. I’m th-“ He doesn’t get to finish before his shirt is in the girls hands and he’s forced to look down at her.

“But that’s not what he wants, Chet. That’s not what he godamn wants! He won’t talk to me anymore and I know for a fact that you’re the only person he will talk to. But I can see it in his eyes. For gods sake Chet, Soda and me aren’t blood, but we are family. And if you think I don’t know him better than you, you’re wrong. Soda wants to be seen right now. Not felt. If you stopped feeling the love in your sex a long time ago, then so did he. So maybe it’s been a routine that he shows up at your house and you undress him and do whatever the hell it is you guys do. But if that’s not what you want anymore, than it’s not what he wants either. He loves you Chet. Sometimes I think you’re the only person he’s ever truly loved.” And with that her voice cracks too. And she turns around before Chet can see the tears in her eyes. She covers her mouth before the sob can escape her.

And Chet stops opening the door. He stops going to the DX and walking the tracks. He ignores the sound of Sodas cries outside of his house and the phone calls. At school, he wonders why Steve keeps staring at him. But that’s a stupid thing to wonder. Because that’s Sodapops family. So he’s not surprised when one day, eventually, Steve walks right up to him and beats him in the face real good.

Soda started sitting at the baseball diamonds again. He would sit there and think. He would think about the memory’s he couldn’t really remember but mostly the ones he could. And all the ones he could with the person who has now shut him out are starting to make his head hurt and heart sink. They are becoming harder for him to remember the details. And that frustrated him something aweful. He’s forgetting Chet’s lips the same way he’s started to forget his Mommas voice.

He wishes more than anything to be a kid at the baseball diamonds again. Just playing ball with his new friend. When things were less complicated. But that was then. This is now.

Then Johnny got jumped. Pony next. And after that Pony and Johnny ran away and Soda had no way of knowing where they were besides the suspicion that Dally had a clue. And he had to be there to pick up his older brother because Darry had been picking up Soda for the past few months now. Ace had stopped coming around so much lately and that hurt Soda. It made him worried and scared and stupid. Sodas mind was getting more fuzzy and he was spirlaing pretty bad.

So he went to Chet’s.

It was dark out and rainy too so the stars were hard to see. He knocked on the door of the big house on the West Side that he could only dream of. He felt sick. Sick and scared and stupid. The door opened. And the boy he loves started right back at him. His person. And Chet stepped outside in the rain. But even in the rain, he could tell the difference between the tears and water that fell from the sky. So he pulled Soda in for a hug. And he whispered in the broken boys ear.

“I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

And he pulled Soda inside and Sodas eyes were glass. His stupid head was filled with no thoughts. No memories. No words.

Chet pulled him into bed and they undressed each other one last time. And then when they were finished, he told the other boy to leave. So Soda walked home in the rain. He couldn’t even look up at the sky and make stories out of the stars because no stars dared to shine tonight.

When he got home, Ace was sleeping on the couch. But once the door shut she sat up and saw him enter. He was absolutely broken. Nothing about him was still together. He had done something much more than just fall apart. Ace knew what happened. She wasn’t dumb. She helped Soda undress from his wet clothes. She took a shirt off of him that wasn’t his own. And suddenly she was so angry with the boy who lived on the other side of the tracks. They really all were that shitty, huh? It was nearly one o’clock on a dark Thursday morning but she ran a bath for him and sat in the bathroom while Soda warmed up and felt nothing at all.

This was her brother. Sodapop Curtis and Ace Evans. They had always had something special. They felt for each other. They knew each other. And they would do anything for each other. Right now, Ace vowed to make sure Soda didn’t lose himself through this. Because a year ago when Ace went through this same thing in her own way, Sodapop made sure she didn’t lose herself.

Eventually Ponyboy came back and Johnny was in the hospital and they had a rumble. And Chet fought Soda. Or maybe Soda fought Chet. And suddenly, all the memories they shared were clear to Soda. They weren’t gone. They were there. But he didn’t want to remember. Not now. Not ever. He was angry. So so so angry. He felt sick. Chet could tell the difference between the rain and tears running down Sodas cheeks. And that just made him mad. He used that to flip Soda to the ground and for a second he could pretend like they were in his bedroom on one of the many nights that his father wasn’t home. But this time he didn’t kiss Sodas neck. Instead he punchd him and punched him across his face.

“I bet you like that, don’t you?”

But Soda wasn’t fighting back. And that frustrated Chet even more. So he kept going even when Sodas sobs could be heard over all the rumble. He knew it wasn’t because of the punches being thrown. No. Sodapop Curtis was crying because he loves Chet Baker. And Chet Baker was beating up that same boy because he is in love with Sodapop Curtis.

It took Twobit to pull Chet off of Soda while Ace turned to direct all the anger she had ever felt in her life towards him. Steve right along side her. It took Darrel and Dallas to pull Soda up off the ground. The rumble was over. But this wasn’t about the rumble anymore. Ponyboy stood watching this scene with a deep ache in his chest.

None of them would ever know the whole story. None of them but Ace. They wouldn’t understand even if they tried. But that was okay with Soda. They all had each other. Because then Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston died. And they needed to stick by one another more than ever. They were a family. A family that was dealt too many shit cards.

But Ace and Soda. They were something special. Sometimes it felt like they only had each other. Like everyone else left. They were soulmates. Really and truly. But not the way that Soda thought him and Chet were. Or the way that Ace thought her and Marcia were. No. Sodapop Curtis and Ace Evans were a story that was written in the stars.

ALL THE MOODBOARDS I INCLUDED IN THIS WERE DONE BY @cherrycolacowboy ❕❕ Thank you thank you, thank you again!

OKAY. I’ve been up writing this for hours because once I started I could not stop. Forgive me if there are errors because there definitely are.

#sodapop curtis #chet baker #ace evans #the outsiders musical #the outsiders #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #two bit mathews #johnny cade #steve randle #angst #adhd #dyslexia #chetsoda #ace x marcia

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