#ponyboy you stink

[evieweeviee]

FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK..

When you with me, you with me FOREVER

[2knightt]

I saw that your requests are open and this idea came to me after a little ✨️incident ✨️

if you dont feel like writing this i completely understand, but how do you think the gang would react if you came to them upset because of an arguement/disagreement with your sibling or relative? I'm just looking for some comfort rn cause I overheard my family insulting me behind my back last night and I've been bothered ever since

it can be platonic or romantic idrc 😭

↳maybe it’s a cruel joke on me.₊˚✧

—IN WHICH, the gang comforts reader.

||✰ — the gang, separately

Johnny Cade ;

you rush out of the house after your sibling raised their voice at you—not bothering to stick around just to see the situation grow.

you felt tears trickle in the corners of your eyes as you walk to the lot, praying that your boyfriend would be there.

you knew he would be, he always was.

you finally reached the lot, your feet feeling like 1000 pounds after each step you take.

you stand there for a moment, your fists stuffed inside your pockets, looking around.

you see johnny sitting down with his head leaning against a wall.

you had stopped crying earlier, but seeing him made you wanna cry more.

you ran over to him, kneeling down beside him—throwing your arms around his neck.

you pull him into a hug, hiding your face in his neck.

you feel him wrap his arms around your waist. he stutters a few words before whispering in a soft voice, talking to you like you’re a baby.

“hey, hey. y/n, what happened?”

you sniffle, the grasp you have around him tightening.

“n-not to tight, love.”

you realize you’d been squeezing him like it was the last thing you were ever gonna do.

“sorry. i didn’t mean to.”

johnny’s thumb began to flutter—up and down on your back, trying to comfort you.

“it’s fine, y/n.”

the both of you are silent for a minute, neither of you wanting to speak.

“it’s okay. you’ll be okay, y/n.”

he didn’t even know what happened and yet, he’s still trying to help.

“my sibling man. the-they think they’re so much better than me.”

his grip on you tightens for a moment, trying to let you know that he’s there for you.

“it’s alright. you’re alright. they ain’t mean it.”

“but they did, johnny. you weren’t there, man. shouted at me, made me feel so stupid!”

you complain, your voice straining the more you speak.

“you ain’t stupid. not even close. smarter than i’ll ever be, shoot.”

johnny goes silent. thinking of the right words, how to put what he’s thinking into a way you’d understand.

“what they said don’t matter. as long as you’re okay—everyone will be okay. your sibling loves you still, i know they do. stuff like this happens all the time.”

johnny kisses the crown of your head before he continues with his rant.

“you still care about them, right? even if it’s one sided, you’ll be alright. any sort of relationship with your sibling—you’ll be alright. everything is gonna be just fine.”

Dallas Winston ;

you scoffed, listening to your siblings rant.

the more they talked, the less sense they made.

they jumped from topic to topic—criticizing you for things you did years ago.

you just couldn’t take it anymore. you walked out of the house, hearing them shout your name as you got into your car.

you drove and drove until you couldn’t see your house anymore. you pulled into an empty parking lot and sat in silence.

suddenly, your whole world came crashing down—realization hitting you so suddenly.

tears stream down your face, your body shaking with every passing second.

you needed someone to just be with you.

you needed dallas.

you took a few minutes to calm down before driving, taking deep breaths in and out.

you drive off to bucks. you knew he was having a party, should be easy to sneak in.

you park the car and rush out, swinging the door open.

a few people turn to look at you, but quickly focus back on drinking or their friends. you run upstairs, tunnel visioned in on the room dally’s usually in.

the door’s closed, which normally means he’s napping. you knock on the door.

you hear groaning, followed by bed springs squeaking. the door opens slightly, dallas peaking out into the hallway—suspicious of whoever was knocking.

but as soon as his eyes met yours, the door opened fully and he carefully rushed you into the room.

you figure your eyes must still be red from crying because he looks at you with both worry and anger.

he gently lays his palm on your cheek, bringing your eyes to meet his.

“what happened? did anyone do this?”

you glance down at your feet, not wanting to answer.

dallas exhales with obvious frustration.

“c’mon doll. you can tell me.”

you lean your head against his chest, silent until this moment.

“my siblin’. they never listen—no matter how much i try to change, no matter how much i do. i’m always some stupid kid.”

you mumble, your voice cracking mid sentence.

dallas sighs. he wraps an arm around your waist, the other one going to your head, gently holding it.

“i mean. i can beat ‘em up if you want me to.”

you giggle—well, tried too. your voice was so strained, you were silent.

“dallas.”

“yeah yeah, i know. i’m, ‘better than that.’”

he mocks past you as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“you can stay ‘ere if you want.”

he suggests, with slight hope in his voice.

“stay far away from ‘em for awhile. i don’t want them to start on you again.”

you smile at his words—feeling a sense of comfort and relaxation washing over you.

“yeah. sounds nice, dal.”

Ponyboy Curtis ;

you couldn’t handle hearing their voice any longer.

the genuine anger in their voice made you wanna sob.

you rolled your eyes the longer your siblings rant went on.

you kissed your teeth, tears slowly forming in your eyes as you waved goodbye.

your sibling was beyond angry as you ran out the door, but they knew they couldn’t stop you.

you ran and ran, your legs feeling like they’d never get tired. adrenaline making you go faster than you ever had.

you were barely conscious as you ran, allowing your body to take you wherever.

but when the adrenaline ran out, you found yourself outside of the curtis house.

the waterworks started again as you stared at the window. the curtains were closed but you saw light inside.

you caught your breath before stepping up the front porch.

you stood infront of the door, hoping it was ponyboy who’d answer the door. you knocked quietly, glancing down at the mat.

the door opens and your head shoots up, meeting a pair of green eyes.

“y/n?”

“oh, pony.”

you whisper as your eyebrows contorted into a sad look as you threw your arms around his shoulders.

he was taken aback by your face and the sudden affection, pony stumbles back slightly.

he gently wrapped his arms around your neck, trying to bring comfort.

“what’s wrong? did something happen? are you alright?”

he asks, his words coming out faster and faster each second.

you’re silent for what seemed like minutes.

“my sibling, pony. they refuse to listen! they don’t bother to listen to anyone! it-it’s so annoying. can’t take it anymore, man.”

you whisper, taking a shaky breath after finishing your rant.

you thought pony of all people could understand, especially with darry and all.

you started to cry again—even you didn’t know why.

you sniffled as ponyboy rocked both of your bodies side to side.

“breath, y/n. please—i don’t want you to freak out to much.”

you hadn’t even realized you were hyperventilating.

ponyboy grabbed your shoulders and looked into your eyes with a concerned look. he looked like he was gonna cry himself.

“do what i’m doin’, alright?”

he asks of you as be started to breath in, hold it in for a moment, and exhale.

you did the same for a few minutes. your tears coming to an end, along with your hyperventilation.

“it’s gonna be okay, y/n. shoot—me and darry go through that almost daily and we still love each other. i-i bet that this’ll be over soon. you n them were the closest siblings if i’ve ever seen one.”

he said, grabbing ahold of your hand.

he smiled, hoping you’d follow his actions once more.

you tried to smile, but gave a lazy one in return.

he wrapped you into another hug, kissing your cheek before doing so.

“you’re gonna be alright.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

Sodapop Curtis ;

you heard your aunt mock you for being a grease.

she was always so materialistic. not even your mom liked her but—she always came over.

you heard her mock the way you dresses, talked, walked, everything.

you felt so low. like you were some tiny germ in her world.

you wanted comfort, but you knew you couldn’t go to your mom. you couldn’t go to any of your family.

then you thought of soda. sodapop shouldn’t be busy today.

you climbed out of your window, not wanting to even be in the same room as your aunt.

you walked to the curtis house, peeking into the window as you walk by—seeing darry sitting down on his chair.

you really don’t want to talk to him right now. you didn’t want to talk to anyone but sodapop.

you walk up to his window and knocked lightly.

his curtains swung open and he opened the window in a swift motion.

“babe! what’s up?”

“..can i come in?”

“uh, totally! you ain’t even gotta ask!”

he responds with a smile so wide that it couldn’t help but make you feel soft.

you plopped down on his bed, flat on your back as you sigh.

soda gets a confused look as he tilts his head.

“what’s wrong, y/n? you’re awfully quiet.”

“do you think i’m a lowlife, soda?”

you ask, staring up at the ceiling. tears slowly forming in your eyes, sliding down your cheeks onto the blanket.

soda goes silent before sitting down next to you.

he grabs your hand and kisses it, mumbling something you couldn’t hear.

“if you’re a lowlife then i gotta be satan himself, love.”

he responds with a chuckle as he lays down beside you.

“what makes you ask, anyhow?”

he asks, turning his head to face you, still holding your hand.

“my aunt jus—said some stuff ‘bout me. made me feel a lil stupid.”

he squeezes your hand and looks up at the ceiling along with you.

“don’t you ever think like that again. no matter what anyone says, kay? you’re the sweetest person i’ve ever known! shoot—i don’t think there’s ever been a grease as nice as you.”

he rambles, bringing both your hands up to the sky, as if a sign of victory.

you smile, sitting up as you stare down at soda.

he makes eye contact with you, shooting up to sit alongside you.

there are still tears in the corner of your eyes, but they refuse to fall. soda grabs your chin to bring you closer to him, kissing the tears off your face.

“can’t let those tears ruin your pretty little face now, can we?”

he asks, with a cat like grin on his face.

you giggle, throwing him into a hug.

Darry Curtis ;

your uncle had come ‘round for a visit, gonna catch up with the family he said.

but all he did with you was make snide remakes at you or behind your back.

calling you a nobody, someone who’d never make it far in life.

he doesn’t know what you’ve gone through. he just sees the aftermath, not the past, not the present. just the person you want to throw away—the future you don’t want.

he brought you down so much, you found yourself at the bottom of a bottle.

you were outside the curtis house on the porch, drinking.

you always sit out there, nobody even bats an eye at you when you’re out there anymore.

it was late at night when you were out there. darry wasn’t home, you said goodnight to pony and soda—even johnny who was staying the night.

you didn’t want any of them to know you’re back into alcohol for comfort. you waited until you were alone.

you grabbed a few bottles and sat out in the porch, drinking and drinking.

you thought you were gonna waste yourself until the morning—hoping you could act sober around darry.

headlights blinded your vision as darrys truck pulled into the driveway.

you had a bottle up to your lips as he parked the vehicle. you started to freak out as you heard him shout your name, trying to hide the bottles under the bench.

“y/n? you better not be doing what i think you are.”

you hear him shout as he makes his way up the stairs. you pray that the bottles don’t roll from under the bench.

you shake your head, trying to straighten out your posture.

“nah, dare. yo-you know i changed.”

you defend yourself, trying to act sober but accidentally slurring your words.

you hear darry sigh as he pinches his nose bridge.

he sits down, turning his body to face you.

“i’m not a idiot, y/n.”

he says, bending down, grabbing one of the bottles.

“are you serious? i thought you sobered up.”

he complains, his elbows resting on his knees as he looks down at the bottle.

“i did! it’s just…it got tough again.”

you mumble, looking down at your feet with shame.

darry places his hand on top of yours. you look at him, making eye contact with him.

“what happened then? what happened that would make you turn back to this?”

he asks quietly, his eyebrows furrowed.

you could hear the disappointment laced in his voice the more he spoke.

“i was called a drunkard, a nobody, someone who’d never make it far in life. do you know how draining it is to hear that?”

you ask, tears already gliding down your cheek. your head is thrown back, hands covering your eyes as you erupt into sobs.

darry grabs your wrists, bringing your hands down. he let go, and placed his hands on your temples. he brought you closer to him, kissing your forehead before whispering sweet nothings—trying to make you feel better.

“what anyone says shouldn’t bother you none, y/n. all that matters is that you are you and i love you for you. i love your laugh, i love how caring you are, i love how you try to change for the better.”

darry mumbles, kissing your forehead every now and then in between his words.

he brings you to his chest. the two of you sit in silence. you listen to his heartbeat as the moon shines directly upon you two.

Steve Randle ;

you’re sibling had called you an idiot, a stupid loser, and so much more right to your face.

right in front of you. not even trying to hide it.

you pretended not to care, you pretended like it didn’t hurt as you walked to the nearest pay phone, you lied to yourself as you pressed steves number into the pay phone.

but still—even with all that convincing, you still didn’t believe you.

the phone rung and rung until he finally answered.

“whatchu want? who is this?”

“steve? oh thank god!”

you sighed with relief, slightly chuckling at your own demise.

“y/n! what’s up?”

he asks, trying to see why you’re calling him through a pay phone rather than your own phone.

“can you come and pick me up? i’ll be at the gas station!”

“the DX?”

“no-no. not the DX, the other one.”

“oh, totally. sit tight, doll.”

he says before you hang up.

you walk to the gas station which wasn’t to far. you sit on the bench, watching the cars go by. it was quiet for a bright afternoon. maybe everyone was at the beach, or seeing a movie.

you think to yourself as you see steves beat up car pull up to the curb right in front of you.

he rolls down the window, shouting for you to get in.

you rush up to the passenger door and swing it open, sitting down.

steve begins to drive off. he always just drives ‘till he run outta gas or gets tired.

“so,”

“so?”

you asked. steve began to speak but stopped mid-way. you always hated when anyone did that.

“why’d you need me to pick you up there? you look…sad.”

and that was your cue to start crying.

you didn’t mean to. you didn’t even feel the tears until you noticed spots of your pants had tear droplets on them.

steve had noticed you crying and pulled over to the side of the road.

he started to freak out a little—he never knew how to handle anyone crying.

“woah—y/n, what’s wrong? did i say something?”

he asks, leaning over to get closer to you.

you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, shaking your head.

“then why’re you cryin’?”

“steve, do you think i’m stupid? be honest.”

his eyebrows furrowed at your question, he almost laughed at such an idiotic thing to ask.

“hell nah. i mean, you see shepard? he’s so dumb he can’t tell up from down!”

he shouts, trying to comfort you.

you laugh slightly, the grasp you have onto the loose fabric of your pants loosening.

“you think?”

“i know, y/n.”

he whispers, kissing your temple before leaning back onto the drivers seat.

steve puts his hand on your thigh, his thumb caressing it in a comforting manner.

“how ‘bout i treat you to some food, huh? try n take your mind off that absolute nonsense you were talkin’.”

you nod your head in agreement.

Two-bit Matthews ;

your sibling had shit on you for everything under the sun.

looks, grades, how you spoke, how you walked, friends, boyfriend, shoot—even the way you brush your teeth.

you started tearing up during their rant. thought it was stupid to criticize everything you do.

the second they were done, you walked out. made sure to slam the door on the way out to make it known that you left, that you left angry and sad.

you thought of two-bit the whole walk.

did he think of that about you? does he think he could do better? does he think you smell funny?

it was 9PM, so two-bit would probably be at some gas station trying to get some booze.

you walk to his normal gas station where he has the most luck and you were right. he was leaning on the counter, laughing while the worker had a stern look on his face with his arms crossed.

you walked in and tapped two-bit on the shoulder.

“wh-oh! hey, babe.”

he greeted you with a grin and a kiss on the cheek.

“can i talk to you?”

two-bit got an awkward smile but nonetheless—agreed.

the two of you exited the store, but as soon as he stepped out of the door, you pulled him into a hug.

the sobs started again as you held him tightly.

two-bit was silent.

he was never good at comforting others, but he tried.

he always tried for you.

“shh, shh. it’s okay—i’m here. you’re just fine.”

he says, wrapping his arm around your waist, rocking the two of you left to right.

he kissed your temple, the crown of your head, to your forehead until you stopped crying.

“do you, do you ever think you can do better, two?”

you ask in a quiet voice, looking down at your shoes.

“what? never! infact, i think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

he says, picking you up and swinging you around some.

you gotta admit, you laughed a little with tears still streaming down your face.

“why do you ask? who i gotta beat, huh?”

he asks, putting you down.

“nothin’ it was stupid.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

he kisses your cheek, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

“how ‘bout we go n bother that worker together, huh? bet we can steal the whole store if we tried hard enough.”

two-bit says with a grin, finally letting go of your waist.

you get a smile on your face at the thought of it. you nod in excitement as two-bit drags you back into the store. the two of you leaning against the counter, grinning from ear to ear.

i know we dont know each other that well but just know, i’m always here for you. no matter the situation im here for you!

[chained-sweater]

ponyboy: how do you tell someone their breath stinks without being rude?

dallas: "i'm bored, let's drink mouthwash."

[gonegirlaccount]

dating dallas winston hcs?🤞🤞

Yess stink🤞🤞

DATIN: DALLAS WINSTON

always snatching something up for you.

like all the time.

"Dallas this is so gorgeous....did you steal this from the store I was eyeing?" "you're broke and so am I doll. And besides, it'd look prettier on you than that stand."

You’re the one he visits first when he get out of jail.

Shows you something he snagged from the police when he comes out.

“First a ring, now the cuffs?” “He was so not payin' attention, doll, ain't my fault.”

Makes YOU give HIM piggieback rides when he’s tired

Heavy af

“Dally what are you eating, bricks?” “Not anymore.” “…I’m taking you to the doctors.”

Loves and I mean loves it when you let him play with your hair

Gives you the most horrible and ugly hairstyles

You just smile and don’t say anything

Makes you laugh during the most serious things.

“Ponyboy went missing and Darry don’t know where he went.” “..neigh.” “…PFFT-“

Gets the both of you in trouble somehow

Takes you to the movies

Popcorn fights happen.

Ends up with him having the whole thing of popcorn dumped on him.

Doesn’t know how to dance for shit, it’s like he got two left feet

So expect to fall when y’all dancing.

[stayinggoldforpony]

who from the gang do u think had the biggest problem/aversion to ponyboy and curly being together? and why? :3333

oh em ghee i wonder who could have sent this lovely ask! def not the person i was just talking to about this- SODAPOP. ohhhhh sodapop.

You might think Darry but let me raise you this: Darry knew he couldn't stop Pony and Curly from being friends and he saw that Pony was staying out of trouble even if he was hanging around Curly so Darry just sat down with Pony and was like "I don't mind you two bein' together, just stay outta trouble" and Pony does so Darry is chill with it.

but you best believe the minute he even gets a whiff of Pony doing something he's not supposed to he's making a trip to the Shepard home though

anyway back to sodapop

Soda loves his brother so he wants to protect him

and with Curly's reputation Soda is like "nope. not happening. why HIM?!?!"

and like obviously Pony isn't as hardened as the rest of the gang so Soda worries about him even more because of that

like the scene at the drive-in, Pony was holding a broken glass bottle but he wasn't going to use it. Even in self defense. As opposed to Johnny who killed a soc in self defense ("I couldn't use this," I said, dropping the pop bottle. "I couldn't ever cut anyone….")

not saying one is tougher than the other because of this (and obviously more plays into why Johnny did what he did) but this is just ONE difference I've noticed

so Soda doesn't want Pony to get tough because of Curly

but funny enough being with Curly has the opposite effect

like Pony leans into his softer side more and doesn't try and put up the tough hardened act all the time

I mean he still does it, but a little less

Soda is still shocked that Darry doesn't make a big stink about them being together, like Soda always tried to defend Pony when him and Darry would fight

but he was so ready to be like "I think Darrys right on this one" AND THEN DARRY DIDNT CARE

Sodas like "MAKE THEM BREAK UP!!! YOU HATE CURLY SHEPARD AND DIDNT WANT THEM TO BE FRIENDS BUT YOUR GONNA LET EM DATE???"

and Darrys just like "They aren't getting into trouble and Pony seems happier so im going to let them be. not to mention Pony has a good head on his shoulders, I trust him"

and soda is like "THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO START TRUSTING PONY!!!"

but obviously Pony is his little brother and Curly makes him happy so he puts up with him

Curly def likes to push his luck from time to time though

also extra little thing: Pony would make them hang out with each other because he really wants them to be friendly since they're two of the most important people in his life!

so they try and put on a "oh yeah.... i love this guy..." act but then the minute Pony isn't looking they're glaring at each other and watching the others every move

(A lot of these HCs are inspired by @pumpkinsy0 so go check them out for some of the best purly / papercut headcanons you will ever read)

[lydscare]

ponyboy curtis dating/relationship headcanons

warnings/notes: ponyboy is a softie; no warnings 🙌 (pony is a little insecure, though)

a/n: yooo 😃, it’s been a hot minute; sorry school drama is being a b*tch right now and has been exhausting me from writing 😭 [why do guys gotta be so immature!?] anyways, “the outsiders” hyperfixation kicked in and made me write this, enjoy!!

reader is gender-neutral / my masterlist 

he’s a sweetie :))

he likes to calls you sunshine or hun

he LOVES taking you to watch sunsets. (he was probably watching one with you when he realized that he was in love with you–)

discussions with him can be so funny when taken out of context. they can go from goofy not too serious questions to an entire exsistensial crisis about the universe

“do crabs think we walk sideways?”

“...pony–”

he is the first to say “i love you”

being close to him allows you to get to know his witty (and kinda smartass) side. 

he also loves being able to make you laugh with any of his sarcastic remarks

“if mr. ray gives us another homework assignment i’m to go to dally for some help.”

*yn laughing*

*ponyboy trying to hide the proudest smile on his face :))*

pony loves, loves the sound of your laugh too

it’s just comforting to him :’)

i also think that after ponyboy comes out of his shell more that he’d 100% be the type to gossip (and never get caught) mainly stuff that he heard from two-bit, dally and johnny tho/tbh

y’all can communicate with no words, (it’s honestly sometimes pretty creepy); y’know through you eyes and facial  expressions and whatnot

he learns to read you really well. your body language and everything, so he’ll know that if you’re uncomfortable and he’ll try to get you out of whatever situation as soon as possible

he gets jealous a bit (he’s a little more insecure though) but he tends to wallow quietly in loathing, giving them the stink eye and what not

you go to his track meetings, just sitting on a bench nearby. he’s so happy that you’re there and supporting him :’)

if you cheer him on loudly tho, he will sink into the floor. out of embarrassment or just being overwhelmed by your love and support, who knows? 

if you guys are walking to his house later at night (or anytime, really) and a soc car drives up next to you guys, he’ll block you from their view so you hopefully won’t get catcalled. (in general he walks on the side of the street near the curb) 

if the group of socs does catcall you from their car or make you uncomfy he’ll tell them to shove off (protective boy fr fr)

also likes to kiss you all over your face

forehead kisses <3

passing notes in class

i don’t know why but i kinda feel like he’s insecure about his smile, so please reassure him that you love him whole :’)

he’s a great listener

ends up stealing a lot of you pencils because he’s always losing them 😭

sketches u <3

random deep talks at 3 in the morning 

recommending books and movies to each other

while he reads a book you recommend to him he writes little annotations of what he thought of the book (you do this for him also) 

has defiantely drawen both of your initials in a heart 

draws on your hands, lets you draw on his

he feels happy seeing you walk around with his little drawings on your hand 🥹

people honestly think that you guys are just really close friends; which is a  fair assumption, there isn’t too much pda with him/you probably don’t do anything too sterotypically couplely in public

he’s 14 (anyone who’s 17+ and reading this, 😐 wtf–) and you’re proably the first relationship he’s ever been in, so he kinda is trying to see how it goes + is always a bit afraid he might be overstepping (at least early on in the relationship)

pt.2 here cuz apparently i went over the word limit :'))

[pumpkinsy0]

Ponyboy is the only one of Curly's gang to say something stupid and he'll have 100% support because he's a cutie patootie.

They spot some Socs and Ponyboy yells out "We should start calling you socks cause you stink!" and they're all behind him going "ooooooohhHHHH!" "Burn!" "Wasted!" They hype him up so much.

ik they wouldve went crazy hearing ponys “white trash w mustangs and madras” line cause u cant even hate hes funny as hell for that one😭

[billkaulitzwife]

The Outsiders as Things My Friends and I Said (in class)

Ponyboy

"I CAUGHT YOU SUCKING DICK LAST SUNDAY SHUT THE HELL UP."

"You smell like fucking bleach."

"Hey at least I don't mess up when I dye my hair."

Soda

"If God made everything, who made God?"

"I wanted to sleep last night but Steve's feet were on my back."

"How the fuck is drugs."

Darry

"Why do you take those kinda pictures if you aren't gonna send them. Wait-"

"Did you say a legal or illegal?"

"You stole the soap dispenser?"

Dallas

"Buy me a lighter and a pack of Marlboro reds and maybe I'll think about it."

"I'm terrified of lobsters. Don't ask why."

"Happy, healthy, drug-free? Shit I'm none of these."

Johnny

"Send me that. I look on fire."

"Did you see the new Spongebob movie? Yeah it's entirely illogical the fire underwater? Logical. WAIT I MEANT-"

"When I look in the mirror all I see is a portrait of a sad guy. Sometimes I see a rainbow."

Steve

"No I didn't see your nip slip. Why would I, I'm your brother."

"I called my mom and she hung up the moment she heard me sniffle."

"Is fentanyl like an acronym?"

Two-Bit

"What the fuck is an acronym."

"Built like a wooden door that squeaks."

"I forgot everything I learned in German so I'm leeching off of you. You're smart. I like you."

Addie

"I'm not watching porn with you, Keith."

"Two in the pink, one in the stink."

"Pony won't stop saying "roast beef" out of the blue."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve - Can you buy me benadryl, too?

Darry - Sure, if I want to go to MORE prison.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Random girl - Hola, como estas?

Soda, who doesn't speak Spanish - Estoy bien, y tu?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Two-Bit - "Bob said he'd text me when he got off the plane.. I think he's coming here."

Johnny & Addie - -mortified-

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Soda & Steve - -squawking like crows at 3 am-

Darry, Pony, & Addie - "Dawg is it like 3 pm? What the hell" & "GO TO BED, I HAVE A TRACK MEET TOMORROW"

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dallas - "When did Jesus invent the calendar?"

Soda - "Woah."

Pony - 😥

[outsidersheadcanons]

So like out of the gang (Curtis) what do you they have done. Like what they smoke weed, drank, had they slept with someone before etc

I am happy to share this!

TW: DRUG USE. ⚠️

- Let’s start with Ponyboy. He’s 14 yrs old, so he hasn’t even had a girlfriend yet. The only things he’s done is drink a single can of beer (and then proceed to throw it up immediately) and cigarettes (obviously).

- Johnny’s the same as Ponyboy, he’s never really met any girls he’d want to go out with (or ones he wasn’t too scared to ask out, if he likes someone he will avoid them like the plague 😭) He smokes a lot, but drinking really scares him.

- Sodapop and Two-bit both like weed, but for both of them it’s more of a social thing??? they don’t really like to do it by themselves. I think they did it together once with Dally and almost died laughing bc it just made everything hilarious. They got yelled at by Darry for stinking up the backyard tho 😭

- Steve doesn’t really like weed that much, or anything besides cigarettes and alcohol. He tried it once but didn’t like the way he felt. I think Darry’s the same way (he had fun with the socs in high school). Neither of them like feeling out of control if that makes sense??

- Dally on the other hand has gone to a lot of parties. A LOT. He’s definitely made a lot of decisions he’s regretted, but I don’t think he’s done anything SUPER hard.

- I think all the older guys (Soda, Steve, Darry, Two, and Dally) have all had girlfriends and stuff (soda’s line in “grease got a hold” 💀💀)

[crow2222]

I don't know when I've written enough to comfortably start posting the chapters of this fic,

but here's a little snippet of the first chapter under the cut because I just wanna share some of it already

“I’ll be back in the evening, later Ponyboy.”

Sodapop ruffles my hair as he says his goodbyes to me for the evening. I hate how it feels without grease in it, but I haven't had the energy to put it in. That's only if I use Two-bits's tub too, and I don't think I can handle that like Sodapop can.

Soda was grinning at me but his sad eyes were telling me the truth. He’s been working like a dog day and night for the hospital bills. I just wish I could help- if only my limp wasn’t making it so damn annoying to walk.

He walks away from me, going into Two-bit's room; Darry was sleeping there, or at least he's meant to be asleep. If he could get out of bed, I feel like he'd be like those cats scratching at the door that have been left out in the rain, begging to be let in; or in his case, let out. He’s gonna go downright crazy soon from staying in bed, but he has to. Doctor’s orders. He hasn't given himself a proper chance to heal ever since we got out of the hospital. We just about had to tie him down to the bed last night, he kept trying to clean all around Ms Matthews house; it was a bit of a funny sight sure, seeing my big brother on his tippy toes trying to clean the top of a fridge, but his scrunched up, pained face, took all the laughter out of me.

He felt guilty for staying here indefinitely, hell I do too, but I'm taking this gift without a second thought because we sure need it.

But at least Darry got assigned Two-bit’s bed. I had to sleep in Karen’s obnoxiously pink room; being a fourteen year old greaser in a preteen girl’s frilly pink bed was embarrassing, to say the least. I have a feeling there was a slight advantage to our rooms though- aside from the bed sizes, Karen's room didn’t stink like Two-bit’s room, it's no wonder Darry can't fall asleep.

Even if all I did today was walk to the kitchen, make a bologna sandwich and plant my ass on the couch; I sure felt tired.

I settled my head deeper into the dirty couch pillow, it don't smell too good and it was lumpy but it was better than the hospital bed so I hugged it gratefully. My vision goes as I close my eyes, starting to think about why all this had all happened in the first place..

…

I wonder what it’s like in a burning ember..

I stared at my cigarette’s burning, almost glowing end instead of reading the book I had propped wide open in my lap, the words sitting patiently right in front of me. It was some dusty old book I’ve read multiple times- if the bent corners weren't already enough to tell, the scribbles of my thoughts would be. None of that has never stopped me from reading a book before though. If you knew my family, or what side of the town we’re on, you’d know that we don’t have a good flow of money; I just have to make do with what I have.

Unless Darry was in a good mood and let me go out on a trip to the library; I’d pretend the books I’ve had sitting around for years weren't mine, dust never collected on the books in the first place from how often I handle them. Instead, I’d pretend they’re brand new books I’ve bought recently, ignoring the highlights and anecdotes in between the lines I've made myself.

I was smoking peacefully in my room, which wasn’t exactly allowed but the whole gang was away for the day, at least for now. Darry would always send us out when a cigarette was lit, he got that from mom; she’d never let anyone smoke in her lovely home, not even her own husband, said it gave her headaches.

Both of my brothers were working and the rest of the guys were probably out in the town causing trouble like the hoods they are, which was the usual. I can’t lie, I really did hate them a little bit for hanging out without me, but at the same time I know I shouldn’t, seeing how it wasn’t their fault that I got grounded. Well, at least not this time.

[sophie-i-guess13]

Hero In Shining Leather

|Words: 1323|

|Characters: Dallas Winston, Two-Bit Mathews|

|Genre: Hurt/Comfort|

|TW: Canonical Character Death, Referenced Suicide (attempt)|

Tag! @mjmacchio1991 @apricot-colored-feathers @pepsi-and-cigarettes @the-kneesbees @ralphmaccchiato

The curtains are drawn shut when you step onto the porch, ignoring the whining gate you’ve left behind. He tells you all the time to shut it, that you’re wearing the hinges out and it’s only a matter of time before the gate falls off completely, but that’ll just have to wait. Besides, it ain’t like anyone’s stupid enough to storm into your place unannounced.

It still feels weird to think of the house as your own- even after all these months. Four of them, to be exact. Tulsa just didn’t feel like home anymore, and he agreed. It was just late-night talk when no one was really thinking things through, but here you both are, on opposite sides of a pale blue door.

You figure there have to be some benefits of having a dead uncle when your fist closes around the doorknob, sinking into the metal as if it was moulded for your fingers, calluses, scars, and all. Tulsa never really felt like a home, Windrixville was no better. Maybe Winstons’ were just meant to wander. To never settle down, to hack up their roots the second things got too comfortable. It’s definitely something you were thinking about three years ago.

But now, when the door swings open and Two-Bit Mathews is sitting there on the floral patterned sofa, you’re damn glad you didn’t take off when you had the chance. His eyes shoot up from your dirty floor and cheap coffee table, holding onto the scarce light that creeps in through the doorway. You both stay where you are for a while, not even really looking at each other.

You study the cracks in the drywall, how the curtains flutter back and forth against the stifling August heat, really anything to distract you from how empty your hands feel when they curl into tight fists.

The sofa creaks when Two shuffles to one end of it and beckons you closer with a lazy wave of his hand. You aren’t thinking straight- you haven’t been thinking straight since yesterday, so you drop down beside him.

He smells like cinnamon and something else you can’t quite name, but you know it’s sweet. It took him a long time to get where he is now- when he only has a drink every few days instead of every few hours. You, on the other hand, stink of the smokes you used to share with him and whatever was sitting in the back seat of Curly Shepard’s new ride. Two-Bit throws one arm around the back of the couch, catching your sagging shoulders in the middle. Before you can think of pulling away, you’re leaning into his touch.

The warm comforting smell of home, cautious fingers winding across the side of your jaw. The August wind is bitter outside your door but none of that matters now. Nothing really matters, not when he’s next to you. “How’d it go?” He asks. At the moment, even if you can feel the words coming from deep in his chest, Two-Bit and the life you two had built feels miles away.

He’s staring back at you now, eyes wide and black bangs pressed flat against his forehead. Miss Mathews was dead-set on keeping that damn headline after everything went down. Ponyboy looks too old for his age behind the layers of tape keeping the article on its page- if anything, he looks like Darry.

Johnny looks nothing like a killer. To anyone else, the scar on his cheek could’ve been passed off as a trick of the light. To you, it’s more obvious than billowing smoke against a clear blue sky. “It was nothin’ special,” you murmur back, “same as it is every year.”

It’s the same as it is every year. You head into town with a pack of Malboros stuffed in your pocket when you head to the graveyard. No one else will be there when you go, and that’s how you like it. And when you decide to head back- even if it means hitching a ride with Curly while his brother’s serving a three-month sentence, no one asks what you’re doing back in town. They all know. It’s been a couple years now, and even if it looks like everyone’s moved on, they wouldn’t just forget something like that.

You’re drawn back to reality rather than a burning church when he leans forward, pulling the warmth you’d grown used to with him. The paper wrinkles in his hands, bending and folding at the sides as the tape threatens to pull up. This time, Two-Bit is leaning against your shoulder and tracing the sketch of you three in the bare photo album.

“Some delinquents y’all turned out to be.” he laughs softly. “Pony’s playing like he ain’t from the east side over in some fancy-schmancy university, an’ you’re up here playin’ house with me.” He skips right over Johnny’s name, but his fingers linger. Tracing his hair, his jacket, his eyes. “Jesus, you both look so young.”

Really, you were both young. Far too young to break your back in a church, far too young to toss yourself in front of a couple cops with an empty heater wielded in your right hand. “Brenda was barely thirteen back then,” he goes on before leaning his head and copper-coloured hair against your chest, “now she’s almost graduatin’, drivin’ round with all the boys I told her were no good.”

The big black headline stands out as Two-Bit runs his fingers over the page one more time, ‘Delinquent youths turned heroes’. Then, the book is shut and you stare at the freckles painting his skin as his fingers drum against the pale pink cover. Pink was never your first choice, but Miss Mathews picked it out, said what y’all did should be remembered.

“Yeah,” you agree tiredly, “some heroes we turned out to be.”

One’s up north, having tucked the essay that got him the scholarship in the bottom of his suitcase. The other kid worthy of the title is six feet underground in a shitty pine-wood box. And then there’s you, laying on your uncle’s sofa and avoiding Two’s eyes when his fingers trace the scar across your stomach through your shirt.

You were in a drug-fueled haze, being force-fed medications you couldn’t pronounce after that night. After the Rumble, after you drug Pony to the hospital all ‘cause you were too scared to go alone, after Johnny died.

And yet, Two-Bit was with you. He was on the other side of the thin hospital cot when you were sick, and he’s here now. “Don’t say that,” he says, drawing out each word as his hands stretch above his head and rest on either side of your face, “you’re always gonna be my hero-”

You groan, but don’t have the heart to push his hands away. “If you say some sappy shit-”

“I’m bein’ serious,” he argues, tilting his head to catch your eyes, “remember that time I couldn’t get the t.v. to work? O-or what about that snake in the yard? You fixed it, didn’t you?”

In reality, you dropped the television on the floor when you tried to straighten the antenna and stomped at the ground until the snake slunk through the grass. It really wasn’t anything special, but an ember of pride starts to burn in your chest before you can squash it. “Forget about it, Dally,” Two-Bit sighs, “you’re always gonna be a hero to me. Like, uh- like my greaser in shiny leather!”

You laugh into the evening, limbs all tangled together on the floral sofa as the photo album is tucked away on the rickety old coffee table. ‘Delinquent turned hero’ is never how you would describe yourself. The title didn’t seem right for you, not the way it fit Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade.

But Two-Bit’s name for you fits just as well as his lips against yours.

[2knightt]

if you don’t mind I’ve got something to add on the Cherry Valance debate (it’s not as well and as put together as the others 😭)

Bare with me, but I personally didn’t like cherry the first time I read the book because from Ponyboy‘s perspective the socs get everything and have everything that Ponyboy and all the greasers don’t especially once Bob and his friends jumped Johnny, and I totally agree with that. He has every right to hate socs.

She has every right to be upset with dally’s actions at the drive-in. It was harassment. Cherry was so biased saying that things are rough all over which she has no idea what the greasers have been through. But then she refused to go visit Johnny in the hospital after Johnny defended Cherry against dally which I think is pretty messed up of her. But In her defense he killed Bob…not sure how I feel about that

Now a lot of people hate her because she didn’t wave at ponyboy during the school scene but I honestly don’t blame her for that with everything going on with the social status between greasers and socs.

Do I hate her? No. Do I love her also no, but after reading the book again and re-watching a movie, I am a proud, cherry defender.

@some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too said it better than I did , thanks

I LOVEEE HEARING PEOPLES THOUGHTS ON HER ITS SO COOL AHHHH

and im glad to hear your a cherry defender 🙏 another one on our side frl…

ALSO HIIII I MISSED U SM STINK☹️☹️☹️🤍🤍

[the-outsiders-blogg]

hi, i don’t know if you are taking requests but if you are, i’d love to see some Soda hurt/comfort. it doesn’t have to be that. i live whatever you write :)

Love this! Thanks for the request I love Soda with all my heart :)

Sinking (soda x reader)

Soda gets drunk after Ponyboy runs away. 

Pony didn’t come home that night.  He and Darry had a big argument.

Darry and Soda had gone to the police station, the vacant lot, and the drive in.  You stopped by Steve’s house, Two Bit’s house, and even Johnny’s house.  Johnny’s parent’s weren’t exactly happy to see you.  You decided to stop back by the Curtis house to update them.  

“Anyone here?” you said walking into the living room.  You looked into the kitchen.  Darry was on the phone again, giving descriptions of Pony and Johnny to someone. 

You gave him a half-hearted smile.  “Is Soda here?”  you asked quietly. 

Darry covered the bottom of the phone.  “In his bedroom.  Don’t expect too much out of him though.”

You nodded.  Ponyboy and Soda were always really close, you expected him to be torn up about Pony’s disappearance.  Soda’s bedroom door was slightly open, but the lights were off.  

“Soda?” you said softly.  You opened the door and switched on the light.  

Soda was laying on the bed, half covered in sheets.  He squirmed and groaned at the sudden light.  

“Soda?” you said again sitting down on the bed. “Are you okay?”

“Mm,” said Soda.  He covered his head with a pillow.  

“Are you- are you drunk?” you exclaimed.  You just noticed the stink of booze on him.  

“Mm.  I couldn’t sleep without Pony and I thought it would help.”

“But you just feel shitter, huh?” you said softly.  “I’m sorry, Soda, I couldn’t find them either.”

Soda groaned again and sat up.  “I’m just so worried about him.  Him and Darry always fight, but I didn’t think he’d actually- run away,” said Soda with a shaky voice.  “I hope he’s okay.” 

“I know, Soda,” you said.  “C’mere.” You held out your arms.  

Soda gently fell into your arms.  He nuzzled up against you.  

“It’ll be okay,” you whispered laying back.  “Everything’s going to be okay.”

[staygoldponebone]

Rumors

Pairing: Dally x Reader (Soda’s Twin) 

Request by: idk. a few peeps, myself included

A/N: here is part four!! i hope it doesn’t suck too badly sksksk 

“Love isn’t real,” your voice echoed into the alleyway, scaring away a stray cat. 

Pony’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “Why do you say that?” 

You only shrugged, making your way over to the dumpster in the dark. Ponyboy watched carefully as you slowly began picking up empty glass bottles and throwing them away. 

“If love isn’t real, then what about Soda and Sandy? Hm?” 

You let out a labored breath as bottles hit the bottom of the dumpster and broke. “They’re teenagers, Pony. That wasn’t love.” 

“Then what do you call it?” 

Another crash followed before you came back to the sidewalk. “I call it hormones taking over.” 

“Well, what about you and Dally?” 

You stopped in your tracks as a flood of stupid memories bombarded your thoughts. You curled your lip in disgust. “Same thing.” 

Pony crossed his arms. “What about Mom and Dad? They were in love.” 

You kicked a rock. “Well, that’s different. They were grown.” 

Ponyboy shook his head. “They were high school sweethearts.” 

You let out a breath and rolled your eyes. “You know what, Pony, you’re right. True love does exist and I’m just being cynical. I’m wrong, per usual, so now you can run off and conquer the world falling in love with everyone on your journey.” 

When Pony didn’t reply, you turned around to find him petting one of the many stray cats. “You are being cynical.” 

“Shut up,” you frowned down at the dirty animal beside your brother, “and quit petting that thing before you get fleas.” 

The younger sibling mimicked you before doing what he was told and the two of you walked the rest of the way home in silence. 

The two of you had been at the park. You always stopped there for a little while when you walked Pony home from track practice. You liked to sit on the swings and pick flowers- flowers that would ultimately die and stink up whatever place it was residing. Just like a human, you thought. One day, our pretty, little selves will rot to death and stink up the place we’re in. 

At least you had something to look forward to. Which turns out to be kind of ironic because you haven’t really looked up from the ground since warning Pony about getting fleas. Ironic and, with the car that nearly hit you, very relevant. 

A hand was squeezing your upper arm tightly as you were pulled onto the sidewalk. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I…” When you looked up and your eyes met Dally’s, you wanted to sink into the ground. “I don’t know.” 

“What?” He spat out the word like spoiled milk. 

You pulled yourself away from him, setting your sight on Pony, who was already a few blocks ahead of you. “I was walking home. I don’t know.” 

You didn’t see it, but his eyes softened. Just briefly before growing back into their previous state of annoyance. “It’s dark out, you should pay more attention.” 

“Yeah, well…”  You didn’t really realize how late it had been and Dal was right, you should’ve paid more attention. But you couldn’t stand being there, so you walked away with a shrug and kept your eyes forward. 

The greaser followed you. “You’re not gonna say thank you?” 

“For what?” 

“For keeping you from getting hit by a car...?” 

You jammed your hands in your pockets, picking up your pace. “Thanks, I guess.” 

“You guess?” Dally lengthened his strides and his voice got louder. “I didn’t have to pull you outta the way, y’ know!” 

You stopped and turned to him. “Then why did you?!” 

Your words were filled with a sudden frustration and your eyes had a fire behind them like you just might punch this kid. It took Dally off guard and he frowned in the silence. His next words came out slowly and awkwardly as if he’d never had to say them before. “Are you ok?” 

You didn’t look at him as you dusted off your clothes and crossed your arms. “No, yeah. I didn’t get hit, so I’m fine.” 

Dally shifted on his feet, patting his pockets for cigarettes that he didn’t possess. “Well, I mean, everyone’s been worried about you.” He cleared his throat. “Y’ know, since you don’t come around anymore.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Who’s everyone?” 

“Buck and Tim and...” he shrugged, “everybody.” 

You rolled your eyes and started toward your house, to get caught up with Pony. “Buck and Tim can’t come talk to me themselves?” 

Dally continued to follow you. “Maybe they’ve tried and you’re just ignoring them.” 

“They should come to my front door and talk to me. It’d be harder for me to ignore them that way.” 

“Yeah,” the boy mumbled, “and what do I do when Darry kicks my teeth in? Learn sign language?” 

You stopped and turned around, Dally running into you. “What are you trying to say, Winston?”  

“Just let me talk to you.” 

“I don’t have any duct tape on me, so I don’t know what’s stopping you.” 

The two of you stood in silence, letting the stillness set. You were both frozen, stuck staring at each other. As the street lights began lighting your path, you put your attention back on Pony and getting yourself home before curfew. 

Dally still had nothing to say and you rolled your eyes. “I gotta go.” 

He gave you a look of distaste and you let out a laugh. “When you learn how to speak again, you know where to find me.” 

“What about Darry?” 

“Scary Darry can’t kick your teeth in if he doesn’t know you’re there.” 

“You’ll let me sneak into your house?” 

You walked away with a grin, shaking your head. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

@endlessgoldensky @dallas-owns-my-ass @no-good-hoodies @killtherandomness @cherryvintagecoke @jiggle-trombone @blondemutant @shepards-love @reginalinettis @starryrevelations @mocurlyshepard 

[curtishoney]

the outsiders masterlist

masterlist requests closed

SODAPOP CURTIS

please

lull you to sleep

rumbles

adore you

headcanons

freckles + soda

DALLAS WINSTON

the irrevocable

what becomes of the brokenhearted

goody two shoes

headcanons

having a fear of stink bugs + dally

dally dating a smart girl

first

tomorrow

PONYBOY CURTIS

headcanons

JOHNNY CADE

tonight

valentine’s day roses

headcanons

random soft!johnny

DARRY CURTIS

sunday morning

headcanons

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

headcanons

STEVE RANDLE

headcanons

NON-READER INSERT

sunday morning

[woosansang]

run away together (spend some time forever)

Chapter 17: Wild time with Ten Inch Tozier

Summary: August - November 1995. Richie starts to address his fears. Eddie starts learning to express himself.

READ THE WHOLE CHAPTER ON AO3!

Previous Chapter (Chapter 16 on Tumblr)

Tumblr Masterpost

-

Richie was feeling pretty fucking amazing and it had everything to do with the fact that Eddie, his boyfriend – that’s right, boyfriend! – was holding his hand as they walked through the streets of New York on one of their last days of summer break, while waving his other hand about in front of his face in his weird little karate-chop motion and complaining endlessly about how they should have cleared out their fridge before they left the apartment to go bed shopping because there was definitely some chicken that was about to go off in there.

“We bought those chicken thighs before Wednesday and that means it’s been more than three days and you know, Richie, because I’ve told you a thousand times, but raw chicken can’t be kept in the fridge for more than three days and even three days is pushing it, so we should have either cooked it last night and then kept it for a couple more days or just thrown it out this mor— Hey! We’re walkin’ here! Watch where you’re going, dickhead! Anyway, those thighs probably need to be thrown out as soon as we get home otherwise they’re going to stink up the whole—”

“I’m far more interested in your thighs, Eddie Spaghetti—”

“Do you think salmonella is a joke?!” Eddie spun around to face Richie. “If you even think about cooking that chicken when we get back I will personally see to it that you are heckled off the stage at The Ponyboy next weekend.”

“That sounds kinda hot. Will it involve you shouting dirty words in my face? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, Eds, you shouting at me really—”

“Oh my god, who do the cops around here think they are?” Eddie pointed at the road where several police officers on horses were walking down the street by them. “I can’t believe, in this decade, that mounted police haven’t been disbanded. It’s a hundred fucking degrees and they’re making those poor animals work like that.” Eddie shook his head as a family walking in front of them stopped to take photos of the horses. “Hey! Why don’t you teach your kids some respect for animals instead of whipping out your camera and then running back to your air-conditioned Mazda while those poor creatures are sweltering out here! Yeah, that’s right, just walk away from the problem! Really mature! What great role models you are!” Eddie let out a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “What the fuck are you looking at me like that for?”

“I just… really fucking love you,” Richie said, and then pulled Eddie in by the hand and leaned down to kiss him, just because he could. “You’re like an angry, sexy little firecracker.”

“How is that even appealing?”

“Have I not expressed, on a multitude of occasions, how your yelling turns me on?”

“Oh, beep beep, dickhead.”

Finding a bed frame and mattress that didn’t cost an arm and a leg wasn’t too difficult, considering Eddie’s literal list of standards and room measurements and colour options and other things that Richie didn’t even know had to be considered when buying a new bed.

“You’re not even twenty and your back is already acting up,” Eddie told him, “So, no, we are not getting that kind of mattress. And don’t even think about searching for doona covers in the children’s section because if I find out you’ve bought some fucking Superman sheets, I can promise you that we will never—”

Richie ducked down for another kiss, holding Eddie’s face between his hands. When he pulled back and looked down at him, Eddie’s eyes were soft around the edges, mouth twitching at the corners like he was trying to hold back a smile.

“I love you,” Richie said, “Just in case you forgot in the past fifteen minutes since I said it last. I love you, Eds.”

Eddie let the smile through, taking over half his face. “I love you, too, but don’t think this means I’m letting you get superhero bed sheets.”

Richie threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll take whatever bed sheets you want.”

“Damn right, you will.”

The first night they got to spend in their brand new bed together was exciting mostly because of the space they’d have to move about, where Eddie wouldn’t knee him in the gut or kick him in the shin when he squirmed around at night. After spending all evening putting the bed together, that first night, all they did was sleep.

The second night was Sunday, and that meant college went back tomorrow. Richie was tucked into Eddie’s side under a thin sheet, arms wrapped loosely around his middle. He still wasn’t sure what good karma had resulted in this being his life right now.

“What time do you start tomorrow?” Richie asked.

“Two, I think. No morning classes on Mondays, thank fuck.”

“I’ll bring home some lunch for you ‘cause I finish at twelve.”

Eddie looked down at him. “You have a morning class?”

“I do. Though, now I know you don’t, maybe I’ll see if I can switch into another day so we can have Monday mornin’ snuggles.” Richie nuzzled into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie giggled. “Stop it, that tickles,” he said, and Richie grinned, then pursed his lips and blew a raspberry into Eddie’s neck. Eddie shrieked. “Richie! Cut it out! That tickles!” He clamped his hand over Richie’s mouth before he could do it again, glaring down at him. “At least now I have a way to keep your damn mouth occupied,” he murmured, removing his hand to lean down and kiss him.

The angle was a bit off until Richie tilted his head and their lips slotted together perfectly, Eddie humming contently like the cute, angry little cat he was. Richie shifted again, propping himself up on his elbow, and let Eddie’s tongue slide into his mouth. Richie was just wearing boxers and he could feel himself getting embarrassingly hard already. He moved his hips back as Eddie turned his body so they were facing each other, one arm still tucked under Richie’s neck. Richie pulled back just long enough to slip his glasses off and toss them on the nightstand and when he returned, Eddie was sitting up, legs stretched in front of him, and he opened his arms for Richie to clamber awkwardly into his lap. Richie tried to fold his legs under himself but he could feel the pull on his upper thigh muscles, so he ended up sitting between Eddie’s legs with his own wrapped around Eddie’s waist. This position certainly wasn’t doing his back any favours.

Richie took Eddie’s face between his hands and dove back in, kissing him square on the mouth and licking his way inside immediately. Eddie groaned, sending a wave of arousal through Richie’s body and straight to his dick. Eddie pressed forward more, making Richie arch his back to accommodate. The slide of Eddie’s lips against his was intoxicating, made his head spin until he forgot to breathe and had to pull back, knocking his nose against Eddie’s and sighing happily.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” Richie whispered. “I never, not in a bajillion years, thought I would get to have this with you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed together and he frowned. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. Although, you could have said something, idiot.”

“Yeah, right. With all the shit that goes on in here?” He tapped a finger against his temple. “Fat chance. I thought you deserved better. I… I still do.”

“Richie, sweetheart, no.” Eddie tilted his head and pressed their lips together, hand clutching at Richie’s waist. “I don’t know how to say the things I think and feel most of the time, but I’ll happily tell you over and over on a continuous loop that I love you.”

“You should definitely do that. Chuck it on a mixtape and press it to vinyl. It’ll fly off the shelves. I love you, Richie. I love you, Richie."

“I do not sound like that!”

Richie grinned. “You’re so easy to rile up, Eds. Makes my world that much brighter.”

“See, how the hell do you do that? Where does this stuff come from?”

“Definitely from that one weekend Bev and I watched When Harry Met Sally four times because she wanted to show Benjamin her soft side. It probably helped me more than her.” Eddie rolled his eyes. Richie chuckled. “I don’t know, honest. It just comes to me. It’s a gift.”

Eddie sighed. “I just want to tell you how I feel.”

“It’s okay, Eds. You showed me plenty the other day.” Richie winked.

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “We should get to sleep. You have to be up early.”

“Aw, no quickie before bed to tire me out?” Richie teased. Eddie just raised an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, I surrender. To sleep, I’ll go,” Richie said in his best Yoda impression.

Eddie smacked his lips. “That was actually really good.”

Richie grinned. “Come on, cuddle bug. Hold me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Please hold me?”

Eddie complied.

They didn’t see much of each other for the next couple of weeks outside the occasional lunch in passing or before-bed cuddles where one of them inevitably passed out in the middle of a conversation. Richie had an audition in a few days and he and Alex had been rehearsing songs and running lines practically every day, while Eddie was busy working on an application for some special internship and also drowning in group assignments where he was convinced he held all the academic weight and that his group members were useless. Richie got promoted at Domino’s, so he quit his job at the music store – not before using his staff discount to spoil Eddie rotten with a bunch of new CDs and vinyls – leaving him more time during the day to swing past Eddie’s classrooms, blowing kisses through the window and making him blush like crazy, and drop off lunch whenever Eddie was holed up in the library studying.

Richie’s audition went smoothly, but that was just about the only thing that went right in those first couple of weeks of sophomore year. Eddie came home almost in tears when he bumped into Ryan and his new boyfriend at the Japanese restaurant they were choosing to frequent instead of Chick-Fil-A. Richie held Eddie on the couch, rubbing his back and his hair like he did when Ryan rejected him the first time, assuring Eddie that he didn’t mind that he was crying over a sort-of-ex because Richie, of all people, understood what it was like to feel not good enough for someone and see someone else take their place.

Then Richie got a C on a test and was suddenly worried about losing his scholarship, not knowing how to study for a history of theatre assessment because history in high school had been all about dates and names and weaving his elaborate vocabulary together into a nice sounding sentence as Eddie taught him how to do. Richie was smart, but he didn’t know how to study because he’d hardly needed to before. Spending time in the library together, working on essays and exercises was hardly the way they’d imagined or wanted to spend their first few weeks as boyfriends, but here they were.

Once Richie handed in his extra credit assignment and went back to Eddie in the library, he saw Eddie had packed up all their stuff.

“Done for the day?”

“Done for the fucking week, actually. This is my last thing that’s due.” Eddie held up a piece of paper.

“Does this mean we’re both free? As in free and available and have nothing to do for the rest of the day?”

Eddie raised his brows. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?”

...

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