#two bit mathews

[theblack-dog]

Darry: When Ponyboy was a baby I accidentally dropped him while my parents weren’t watching and now I live in constant fear that it might be the reason he’s like this.

Two-Bit: This is why I don’t drink with you man what the fuck.

[curtis-brothers-hug]

Soda: “……and then mommy kissed daddy, and the angel told the stork, and the stork flew down from heaven, and left a diamond under a leaf in the cabbage patch, and the diamond turned into my baby brother!”

Two-Bit: “my parents had a baby too. They had sex.”

[your-unfriendlyghost]

I will never not enjoy steve’s beef w/ a fourteen year old

based on this post by @alaskan-wallflower

anatomy’s a bit funny cos my refs were these:

[seilahdiaries]

𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞. 𓍯𓂃

IN WHICH the greasers mess up and regret it .

warnings swearing, tiny angst, fluff, the boys are down bad😭 𝓯! reader x the outsiders .

𓍼 i think i could eat avocado toast for the rest of my life and be okay. also i don’t get why ppl don’t like the self tanner smell or maybe it’s the fact my tanner smells like coconut idek.

now playing . . . baby come back - player

𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡

you hadn’t even meant it that seriously when you said it—just a teasing little murmur.

“you’re never sweet to me y’know that?”

but of course—dallas being dallas— got verryyy defensive and he flinched.

he shrugged you off like a bad itch, your spot tucked under his arm and resting your head on his chest forgotten. he lit a cigarette and said something like, “you want sweet, go date a lil’ bitch.”

the warmth in the smokey room vanished. next thing you knew you tugged your little ballet flats on, almost kissed his cheek out of habit but just walked out. slamming the door just a little bit for dramatic effect.

he lasted two nights btw.🙏🏻

two whole nights of no contact before he was pacing his room like a gooner on no nut november. muttering under his breath like “i ain’t callin’ her. hell no. she’s the one who walked out.”

then five seconds later he’s in bathroom mirror like “be fr, dallas. what if she thinks you don’t care. what if she actually already got a new bitch?!”

he DEFINITELY stalks your house like a creep. he’ll “stroll” pass your house atleast five times a day hoping he’ll catch a glimpse of you, nonchalantly ofc.

when he finally sees you again, after two days of stalking, he doesn’t really say anything. just flicks the cigarette away and stares at you like he wasn’t just tweaking out last night.

“you done bein’ mad?” he asks, voice rough, arms crossed. but his eyes gave him away, the way he looks at your hands, your lips, your wrists— like it’s been years and he almost forgot how you looked. dramaticcc

“cause i cant do that again. the.. not talking shit. alright?” he doesn’t apologize, not exactly. but he looks at you like he wants to. like the words are caught somewhere between his throat and pride.

and when you don’t answer— just take one step closer— he doesn’t stop you.

he lets you fix the collar of his jacket, tuck the strand of hair behind his ear without flinching, lets you look at him. really look.

so maybe dallas winston isn’t sweet.. but he lets you touch the softest parts of him. sometimes! ☺️

𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦

you guys don’t usually fight, you two are really mature. but on the rare occasions you do. it hurts so bad☹️

you got up early today, cut the crust off his sandwich because you knew as much as he refused he liked it, you knew better. you ironed his coat with care and even laid everything out for him.

you just wanted to lighten the weight on his shoulders, give him a peaceful morning where he wasn’t racing time.

oh were you wrong!

“why does it smell like pickles?” “you know i can’t stand that.”

then a second later— his voice sharp, short—

“did you use steam on my coat? it’s wrinkled as hell.” “christ— cant you do anything right?”

your heart immediately hurt, a quiet ache. and you didn’t say a word. you folded the sandwich in wax paper, into the brown bag and handed him his coat.

“sorry,” is all you say, “just go.”

and he does.

but who tf? 🤨you leave too. you didn’t answer his calls for about six days, and somehow managed to avoid seeing him too.

“i was wrong.” he spoke on your front porch suddenly, “i was..i took it out on you. and you didn’t deserve that.”

I KNOW THATS RIGHTTTTTT

darry had spiraled. he reorganized the kitchen cabinets. snapped at soda. started lifting at midnight. told himself you’d come back— trying to get his mind off you.

but on day seven, he showed up on your porch. hands shaking with flowers from the store, pink peonies.

𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗔𝗣𝗢𝗣 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦

he would forget your guys date i’m sorry😭. but ofc not on purpose!!

your ballet pumps dug into the sidewalk, the small cardigan you wore barely clung shut in the cold— because you thought he’d come and warm you up. like always.

but he didn’t. he stood you up.

you stood there till your curls fell and your perfume started to fade. then you walked home in silence. you were so hurt.

you didn’t answer his calls, didn’t open the door when he came knocking. so he opened the window 🤗 like a literal criminal breaking in.

“i’m so stupid,” he blurted, standing outside with slightly flattened tulips he’d rip out of his neighbors front yard. “like actually. i swear i was just talking to steve and then it was dark out and i remembered and i—”

bro didn’t even last a day😭. at most a couple hours before he was crashing out realizing he messed up and IMMEDIATELY ran to your place after calling.

he cut himself off. you looked into his eyes and they were so glossy. “you got all dressed up for me,” he whispered staring at your makeup. “i’m so sorry.”

then he held out the flowers, palms trembling and sweaty.

“can you atleast be mad at me with the tulips in your hand? please? they’re stolen and..crushed. but they’re for you.”

FORGIVE THE POOR MAN PLEASE.😔🙏🏻

𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦

you told him you finished the book he recommended you, unfortunately it wasn’t your taste. you said it was okay—just not your style.

but ofc you caught him on a bad day, ever since you guys left the school grounds he’d been moody. deriods.😒

he scoffed, “yeah well people like you never really get it anways.”

EXCUSE MEE??!?! he still walked you home, but it was quiet— and awkward.

you kicked a stone down the sidewalk while your chest burned. and when you got to your porch— no kiss, no goodbye. just a mumble under his breath and the soft crunch of his sneakers walking away.

you didn’t call. he didn’t either.

but he went crazy in that quiet, weird way.

would stay for at least 10 minutes just scrubbing at his hands, darry would have to PEEL him away from the sink. would also sit upside down on the couch and recite quotes from that same book. he spilt chocolate milk on his essay. and still turned it in.

then, steve caught him infront of the bathroom mirror, hollering apologies but throwing hands. hello?? 😭

“i shouldn’t have said that,” right hook. “i really—truly didn’t mean it.” jab to the jaw.

steve lost it.

“man are you apologizing or knocking her out??”

ponys face was red. he left mid-apology-roundhouse

but the next day, fallen out your locker— was a little folded note.

“i rewrote this three times. i’m sorry, i said something stupid and mean. and its not true at all.”

𝗝𝗢𝗛𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗖𝗔𝗗𝗘

you called. once. twice. five times. you even left voicemails after each one. but maybe the last one came off a bit aggressive.

“its fine. really. maybe you’re just too busy ignoring me.”

it was not fine. 😐

you knew his parents weren’t home. his mom was off at her family’s. his dad hadn’t been seen since wednesday. he was home and you were sure of it. but still— nothing.

you went to sleep dramatically, but mostly with your pride hurt cause why did you leave so many voicemails jeez.😓

turns out he wasn’t ignoring you! haha. he’d actually gotten a migraine so bad it made even the light in the room unbearable

johnny curled up with a damp cloth over his forehead, your voicemails playing faintly in his room while he drifted in and out.

and the next early morning, you heard your window click open. you slightly panicked for a second cause whattt before he climbed in with crushed wild flowers he ALSO stole from someone’s yard. cough. soda.

“i didn’t mean to ignore you. swear. i couldn’t look at anything. my head was pounding. but i kept your voicemails on loop. it helped me fall asleep. that last one kind of hurt my feelings though.”

you smiled in spite of yourself.

𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘

you were sitting on the curb while he fixed his truck for the millionth time. squinting your eyes from the sun and trying to keep your linen skirt from lifting with the breeze.

you giggled and teased,

“if you spent half as much time on fixing my bike as you do on that greaser hair, i might actually be able to come see you.”

DAMN GIRL.

he laughed— but short.

“yeah well, maybe if you focused on your chain instead of my hair, you wouldn’t be walking it everywhere.”

oh!

you didn’t say much after that—like at all. just walked your bike home when it came time. quiet, wheel clicking out of rhythm.

you didn’t hear from him after that. no calls at all. but two days later, you heard metal clicking in your driveway.

steve.

with his toolbox and a cigarette tucked behind his ear, already halfway through fixing your chain.

“can’t have you riding around on a broken chain. might not like my hair, but at least let me keep you safe.”

you smiled—soft. fixing the cigarette that threaten to fall.

𝗧𝗪𝗢-𝗕𝗜𝗧 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗪𝗦

he always joked— but this time it wasn’t funny. 😔

you didn’t even remember what he said exactly, just that it hurt. and when your eyes started to gloss, he laughed.

what you didn’t know was that it wasn’t because it was funny— but he didn’t know what else to do. and so you left— face wet and rose-glossed lips pressed shut. and for once in forever, you ignored him.

the next day, you were mid-bite in a chocolate-covered strawberry, legs curled up on the linen couch in your lace pajama shorts. you heard the front door creak.

then two-bit suddenly sat beside you, like he hadn’t made you cry the night before.

“i’m sorry,” he said, holding up a plastic bag from the corner store. “i hate when you’re upset with me. even more when you don’t laugh at me.”

you stared, until he nudged your elbow to take the bag—and you did. “okay, ..now blink twice if you still love me.”

you didn’t blink.

[rinajjbp]

Hi, may I introduce the idea of ‘90s Jensen Ackles as Sodapop Curtis? But specifically just this photo 😌

There’s something about him (in this particular photo) that I feel like resembles baby C. Thomas Howell a little bit too, and that just adds to it for me.

[lucyandlucy]

Here yall go gang enjoy

[heartsforjohnnycake]

johnny cade who sits in the back of all his classes to sleep thinking he gets away with it, while all his teachers know and let him.

johnny cade who gets free lunches from the lunch ladies that give him a pitying look; he could never find out why they gave him free lunches

johnny cade who gets extra bandages and first-aid supplies from the nurse under the guise of “they’re extras”

johnny cade who never does work but somehow still passes all his classes and wonders how the hell he managed each year

johnny cade who gets fake report cards from his teachers to show to his parents so they don’t beat him again

johnny cade who gets free tickets to school events; he always thinks that two-bit or steve or ponyboy or dally (who doesn’t even show up) paid for them

johny cade who is known for being the poor abused greaser by the entire school staff; he somehow never realized, too preoccupied with everything else going on in his life

he realizes it in the church, and questions pony on what he knows. he makes a plan to thank all the staff before he drops out (he’d been planning to, anyway. he never learned anything) and he never got the chance.

[melticholy]

Another watercolor drawing of the outsiders!

[sodapopper]

During the Christmas season, a small sprig of mistletoe appears over the Curtis brother’s kitchen door, but with a slight rule change: instead of being kissed, anyone caught under the mistletoe gets punched. Overnight, mass war is declared.

Johnny’s living in the kitchen because he’s too scared to try and get out.

Two-Bit gets decked the most, because he keeps forgetting and brazenly walks through the door multiple times a day.

Ponyboy is climbing through windows just to avoid the door.

Soda and Steve are either bolting through doors faster than they can be caught, or trying to sabotage people by pushing them under the mistletoe.

Dally is is relatively safe, because no one wants to try taking a piece out of him; in return, he hides behind the door and wallops whoever tries to sneak through, laughing maniacally the whole time.

Meanwhile Darry is pinching the bridge of his nose, 100% done, like “guys please stop, this is stupid”

Then turns around and absolutely DECKS Steve as he tries to sprint into the kitchen.

[kaytheday]

The only true Outsiders headcanon:

“Ponyboy would you mind staying after class today?” Ponyboy couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done wrong in Mr. Symes class but here he was at his desk even though school had already ended.

“I just wanted to say that I really loved your theme. It was very thought provoking and you are quite a talented young writer.” Ponyboy gulped, of course this was about the theme. “That being said, I can’t give you full credit.” As if to emphasize this point, he pulls out the theme that has a big red 70 scribbled at the top.

“What? Why?” Ponyboy asks in irritation. He’d spent a lot of time on that theme just to be given a 70? “Did I not meet the word count? What’s wrong with it?”

“If you remember the rubric, it said that all writing must be based on true events. This entire story is fake. I saw Jonathan Cade in my class this morning and your theme said he died.”

“That’s not fair.” Even though Ponyboy knew it might be. He hadn’t really read through the rubric, he was too behind on everything else. “I may have exaggerated on some things-“

“I think it’s perfectly fair.” Mr. Syme said, interrupting him. “None of the events described actually happened. I’m sorry Ponyboy.”

[sodapop-babydoll]

*ahem*

johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade johnny cade

[wassupmygays]

you're telling me Daryl Tofa sat on the floor of the outsiders house and had some chocolate cake and a beer like two-bit and NOBODY TOLD ME

(daryl pic via Emma's recap tiktok <3)

[canyoucount-suckas]

He'd call Steve by other generic male names. David. Toby. Anthony. Peter. Once even Keith, which really confused Two-bit.

And he calls Two-bit with random numbers at the start. One-bit, Eight-bit. If he's feeling silly he'll do some really outlandish number. Twenty-seven-bit, Thirty-four-bit. Mr Curtis made the mistake of calling him Sixty-nine-bit when he was 16 and never made that mistake again, because obviously sex jokes are the funniest jokes on the planet to a teenager, especially one known for always getting his two bits in.

Mr Curtis used to call Dally by different Texas city names. Austin. Houston. Everything except Dallas. El Paso, San Antonio, and Galveston were the most ridiculous, but Dally’s least favorite by far was Irving.

[kellyssfe]

[seilahdiaries]

𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗡 ?

in which ❝ . your their rapunzel girl . ❞

۪ ֹ ᮫ warnings . . . none? strict household maybe. and fluff જ⁀➴ ⋮ ⌗ 𝓯! reader x the outsiders !

🌞 idk why i randomly thought of a rapunzel coded reader but i did lmao. should i do like a belle or aurora one ??

now playing . . . something that i want - grace potter

𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦 .

you’re not really allowed to go out, so he comes over after school with you with his book and lays on the floor reading them outloud to you. so cute!

you’re obsessed with reading and poetry like him, so you always ask what pony thinks a line means. and then he starts yapping while you listen ☺️.

you guys draw stars on the ceiling of your room together.

eventually, after proving he’s a “good kid,” your parents start getting looser and start letting you go out— only with him.

but he never— ever. minds being stuck inside with you.

the curtains flutter. you’re lying on your bed, fingers dangling off the edge. and he’s looking through your book shelf, flipping through a paperback.

“hey. doesn’t it get boring? being stuck here with me?”

he glanced at you. then smiles softly.

“nah, not if i’m stuck here with you.”

𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗔𝗣𝗢𝗣 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦 .

you’re always painting— the room is covered in canvases and you paint on non-traditional things too. you even have one of him which is totally not giving creep but okay!

whenever he visits you, he brings little things for you to paint. like flowers, matchboxes or shiny wrappers😭.

“i saw this and thought of you,” he says, holding up a wrapper proudly.

you raise a brow. “that’s from a grape candy.”

“yeah but,” he grins, “look at the color, it’s you. you could make it pretty.”

you roll your eyes with a smile, but take it anyway.

you kiss him with paint on your hands, smudging it on his cheeks and jaw.

he always makes sure everytime he visits— its memorable. like he’ll slow dance with you in the middle of your room, literally cry when he saw the portrait you made of him. crash all of your canvases tryna show of his aerobatics.

and then you’re stuck putting a bandaid on his temple and still inside 😒.

𝗝𝗢𝗛𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗖𝗔𝗗𝗘 .

you guys definitely fill pots and leave them on your porch, watching little plants grow.

you always keep a tiny light on, maybe a candle, in your room— “just in case you pass by.”

he carves yalls initial into a tree you can see from your window with his blade, for sure. like I KNOW he would.

whenever you’re not allowed to go outside, he’s nearby the window and talking to you from below. like a literal fairytale.

“you’re not suppose to be here,” you whisper. johnny grins up at you, hands in his pocket. “yeah. but i missed you.”

“you’re gonna get a knot in your neck if you keep showing up like this,” you call softly, leaning your elbows on the sill.

“worth it.”

“you say that now,” you hum, “but when you can’t look side to side, don’t blame me.”

“i’ll just look up, then. that’s where you are, ain’t it?”

you’re guys’s love is so quiet and cute it almost feels made up. i need that.

𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡 .

you’ve never kissed anyone before him and it’s all he can think about.

he pulls back just barely, breath still warm against your lips, his hand resting at your jaw like he’s keeping you steady.

“sweet little lips,” he mutters out.

he grins, crooked and slow, mouth brushing against yours again—

“you keep kissin’ me like that, i’m gonna think you like me or somethin’.” he teases.

he teases you a lot for being a “sweet little thing,” but he always shows up when the lights go out.

you write his name over and over in the margins of your journal, book, recipe books, etc.

he steals you a red lipstick and tells you to wear it for some reason😭.

for sure teaches you how to sneak out.

but you teach him how to care.

𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦 .

you iron his shirts in the living room and sway to old music on the radio.

i could totally see him building you a bookshelf with his own hands.

but you always do small hobbies that he loves. like when you embroider pillowcases with his and yours initials. always brushing and braiding your hair. or strumming a guitar.

“twenty minutes,” you murmur, stepping back from the dough and reaching for your brush.

you sit by the window, sunlight warm on your cheek as you work through tangles, braiding over your shoulder. you glance at the door like— maybe this time he’ll get off work early today.

the smell of fresh bread soon fills the room.

𝗧𝗪𝗢-𝗕𝗜𝗧 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗪𝗦 .

you write your dreams in a lilac pen and let him read them sometimes. he usually ends up poking fun at them but it’s fine😣.

he always climbs the side of your house instead of the front door to deliver snacks and a singular rose he stole from a yard. IM A FIRM BELIEVER ALMOST ALL THE GANG WOULD STEAL FLOWERS TO GIVE TO YOU.

he always puts on his favorite songs to show you, and the first time he did it was elvis rock-n-roll. you were flabbergasted.

he lets you put ribbons and bows on his hair, sometimes even braids. “as long as you promise to laugh.” he always says.

𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘 .

watching him work on his car through the window and waves with a smirk when he catches you.

he lowk teaches you how to steal stuff to “feel alive.” 😭

he also would fix you up a bike so you could go visit him too when you were allowed.

he leaves his jacket for you, either in your room or on the porch railing whenever it rains. idk why but he does!

you print out tiny photos of him and tape them to your mirror, or even just having a page in your scrapbook about him..

“didn’t know i looked good enough for a scrapbook.”

“you look good enough for a hundred,” you murmur back, and he goes quiet.

eyes scanning the page, this time he’s got nothing cocky to say— just stands with a crooked smile and pretending like his heart isn’t doing backflips.

he also keeps something of yours in his glove compartment, like a nail polish or a ring. which is special considering he only has a random wrench and old cigarette boxes in there!