#IC- Dallas

[winguontheweb]

the NHL Conference Finals are going on right now!! I wanted to draw it!

Ms. Panther vs Ms. Ranger, and Ms. Star vs Ms. Oiler!

[thenightsideeclipse]

Spot the difference! (hard)

[kitnita]

★  —  wyatt johnston & ty dellandrea via paragenixsystems on instagram; august 23, 2024 (x)

[incidentale]

Sportsnet : And that's a wrap on the 2024 NHL season. 🏒

[bubblegumflavor]

Request from the Instagram crowd: The Outsiders + Ice Skating

(And this is what happens if you're not more specific 🙈🩵🫶)

[athleticperfection1]

Dallas Stars Ice Girls

[themintystarsfan]

This is your reminder that NHL Preseason starts Saturday!!

[kitnita]

speed.hd: check out how many went in 👀

[starscelly]

harls going floor mode

+ starsmin getting caught taking photos

[39oa]

Jason Robertson for ESPN’s The Point

I have a lot of kids and... people who come up to me and [are] like, "Oh, you're Jason Robertson," and they're Asian and they want a picture. Or I remember going to a game, during the season, and I saw a Filipino flag.

[antisphinx]

driving the beltway

[gre4zerz]

Out getting ice cream with my friends and six state trooper cars pull up. The first thing I thought about is little Dallas jumping through the selling window and running rampant inside the store, being a public nuisance. But little Ponyboy and little Johnny are patiently waiting outside for Dallas to buy them an ice cream.

[staygoldfics]

They See Right Through Me

Summary: Darry's only sixteen when his parents die, and after two years in the foster care system he makes it his goal in life to bring both of his brother's home. But what happens when Sodapop has spent his time in the system on the west side? And what happens when Ponyboy spent his time in the system in New York?

Chapter One: I Remember It All Too Well

Warnings: Very lightly mentioned hitting/abuse, lightly mentioned bruises and cuts. If I forgot anything, please let me know.

You can also find this on AO3

Taglist

Darry hasn’t known much since the night his parents died, his life since has been a whirlwind of nothingness, a vacuum in space pulling him in and suffocating him. He’s only had one goal in mind since his sixteenth birthday, get his brothers home, keep his family together.

People told him he was lucky after they died, lucky because a kind couple in Tulsa had heard the news of his parents passing and wanted to take him in for the next two years, let him finish high school in the same place he’d grown up. They couldn’t take in his brothers, could hardly even care for him, not that they really tried. Their home was safe and warm, but they never cared much for him, only his grades, football and him keeping out of trouble. They said he was lucky when Sodapop got a placement on the west side, close enough to see each other at school and when Darry wasn’t busy working and Soda’s foster parents weren't parading him around town to show off what a good deed, they were doing by taking him in. They were lucky cause Soda’s foster father only hit him occasionally, lucky because he still had food on his plate and a place to sleep at night.

People tell Darry he’s lucky because he’s smart, a good football player, because once he turns eighteen, he has an out if he’s smart enough to take it. College waits for him, or at least that’s what Sodapop says when they sit in the lot together, looking up at the sky. There’s dirt covering the light blue polo shirt Sodapop wears, Darry has to walk him to the border between the east and west side to keep him from getting jumped, and then have Paul walk Soda back to his foster parents. Soda doesn’t look like a greaser anymore but he sure as hell ain’t a soc, he’s not safe on either side of town anymore.

Darry doesn’t feel lucky when he applies for colleges to keep everyone off his back and then throws away his acceptance letters. Doesn’t feel lucky when he visits his parents grave alone and wonders how the hell, he’s supposed to fill shoes that could never be his size. Doesn’t feel lucky when he patches up Sodapop’s bruises and cuts and holds his brother as he sobs.

Darry remembers the day the state separated them like it was yesterday, has nightmares almost every night of the feeling of his baby brothers being pulled out of his arms. Sodapop at only 12 had been screaming, he was always the most emotional, always the loudest.

“Get away from me!” Soda had yelled, fists flying into their social worker, Miss.Cowell's arms. Darry was the only one not crying, his eyes were trained solely on Ponyboy, the ten-year-old was shaking like a leaf in his arms, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. “Darry! Stop! Let go!” Sodapop had been the first to be pulled away from their childhood home.

Darry hadn’t been willing to let go when a different social worker, Mr.Fisher had stepped forward. “Come on Ponyboy, say goodbye, it’s time to go.” Pony had his arms wrapped so tightly around Darry’s middle the oldest could hardly breathe. He’d cried silently into Darry’s shoulder, and after only a minute of silence Fisher had stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Ponyboy’s middle, trying forcefully to take him out of Darry’s arms. It was a silent struggle besides Fisher’s repeated “Let go now boys.”

Darry swears it took at least twenty minutes for them to rip Ponyboy out of his arms, the struggle had felt like it lasted hours. As Ponyboy was dragged away, sobbing so hard Darry wondered how the boy was even breathing, he dropped his favorite bunny plushie, Boots. For years it was the only piece Darry and Sodapop had left of their baby brother. Darry didn’t cry until late that night, alone in a room that would never be his.

Darry spent the next two years going to school and working as much as he possibly could, saving every cent with a promise to get both of his brothers home the moment he turned eighteen. On his eighteenth birthday, only two months before graduation, he moved back into his childhood home, saved by the state and his parents life insurance. He hadn’t shed a single tear as he cleaned the thick layer of dust off everything in the home, as he avoided looking up at the pictures hung loosely on the walls, as he set Boots down carefully on Sodapop’s old bed. Darry got a full-time job roofing houses, graduated early and three weeks later he started the process of bringing his brother’s home.

It was time consuming to say the least, the constant home visits and paperwork, not to mention the cost of the court visits. The most ridiculous part in his opinion were the two months of supervised visits and overnight stays he’d had with Sodapop. As if they didn’t spend every spare moment they could together. But that was the deal, the state wanted him to get Sodapop home first, to make sure he could handle the responsibility before he could bring Ponyboy home.

Sodapop is halfway to 15 when Darry finally brings him home, bruised and tired but still wearing a smile brighter than the sun. On Soda’s 16th birthday Darry isn’t able to give him much, but what he can give is a small party with the gang, Steve, Two-bit and Johnny. Darry makes chocolate cake that is devoured in seconds, and carefully wraps a gold chain from their mother’s jewelry box in an old newspaper.

Sodapop already has tears in his eyes, hands carefully holding the gold chain, when Darry delivers the news, his biggest present. “Ponyboy is coming home Soda.”

There’s a pause, everyone’s eyes on Sodapop, and then suddenly Soda is slamming into Darry, arms wrapped tightly around his older brother, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Darry holds his baby brother just as tight, running his fingers through Soda’s greased hair as he continues. “We’re skipping the supervised visits, since Pony’s placement is so far away, they're letting us go straight to weekend stays. Miss.Cowel says if all goes well then it should only be a month before he gets to come home permanently.”

Darry and Soda spend the next two weeks getting the house ready for their brother to come home. Which leads them to now. Darry doesn’t know much, hasn’t since his parents died. But he knows the 13-year-old kid in front of him is not his kid brother. This boy's eyes are too cold, gray storm clouds glare at him underneath bangs that are a little too long and covered in a thick layer of grease. The kid has his hands shoved deep into the pockets of an oversized leather jacket, there’s bruises blooming along the boy’s jawline, his left eye is red and surrounded by black and blue. The kid's shoulders are hunched, his jaw clenched, he looks ready for a fight.

There’s an awkward silence as Darry, Soda, Miss.Cowel and Ponyboy all stand on the Curtis front porch on a sunny Friday afternoon. Darry isn’t sure what he was expecting to happen when he finally saw his kid brother again, but tense silence hadn’t been something he prepared for. Miss.Cowel, never one for wasting time, hands over a trash bag that doesn’t even look half full. Darry feels like throwing up when he realizes this bag is Ponyboy’s things. “I’ll be back to pick him up on Sunday.” She says and then without another word she leaves the brothers alone, Darry watches as her car disappears down the street and wonders how anyone could ever think he was lucky.

Sodapop is the first to speak and Darry doesn’t need to look at his brother to know he’s on the verge of tears. “Pony?” Soda steps closer, reaching out for their baby brother. Darry’s fist tightens around the trash bag when he looks back at his kid brother just in time to watch as Ponyboy flinches away. Sodapop’s hand freezes between them and then drops lamely to his side, the kids’ hands are shaking. “Baby what happened to you?” Soda tries again voice hardly above a whisper.

Darry’s suspicion that this is absolutely not his brother is confirmed when the boy rolls his eyes and in a thick New York accent he responds. “I ain’t a baby.”

[famouspeoplewearinghockeyjerseys]

Tupac in a Dallas Stars Jersey

[coolthingsguyslike]