Dallas wasn't known for holding hands, or being gentle, But he couldn't help it with his girl.
You and Dallas both sat in your bedroom watching the small tv you had and your record player playing a soft elvis record.
Dallas was sprawled out on your bed, one arm around your shoulders and his chin on the top of his head. His other played with his skull ring on his finger.
You were watching the recording of Elvis and Priscilla's wedding footage that got out. He rolled his eyes before you had put it on and muttered along the lines of 'this is mushy stuff doll.' , but you didn't listen.
As the footage played he shifted not uncomfortable, well kinda. Dallas felt strange like Elvis was being too gentle with Priscilla as the footage showed her and his ring. He frowned as you looked over with a confused look, he just stayed quiet deep in thought. Was he supposed to hold your hand that gently?, suddenly he felt like a monster (even though he barely would even grip you roughly or shake your shoulders).
You shifted cuddling closer as he looked, well he was stiff just laying there. After a beat you spoke up.
"why are ya' bein' weird?" You sighed as he finally looked back at him, his heart racing as he moved his arm off around your shoulders. That dallys frown stayed, almost like he was confused, but he slowly took his hand in yours and held it with his palm up. His other hand came up, rough and calloused like the other one and brushed his thumb over the back of your hand.
"..is this how ya' do it?" Dallas murmured as he looked down at your manicured hand in his, he swallowed hard like it was too much more him.
"to hold hands? You hold hands just fine dal-" you started as you looked at your conjoined hands then back up at him.
"no, romantic or whatever." He muttered back as he exhaled out of his nose shifting on the spot he laid on your bed. Still holding your hand in his.
"I know I don't tell ya' enough but I try to show it."
You laid there looking up at him through your lashes, shock? Maybe Dallas getting soft actually getting soft? Not quiet cuddles he lets side, or when he just murmurs 'I love you' against the top of your hair thinking you're asleep.
But actually saying it, this was strange, big.
"I know," you whispered back. "You do stuff I don't gotta ask dal."
Dallas nodded, and pulled his arm back around your shoulders pulling you against his chest. His chin rested back on top of your head with a sharp inhale of your scent, as he looked back at the tv screen at Elvis smiling.
summary: for the first time ever, dallas winston cares about a girl. so much so that he asks the adultest adult he knows for advice, even if it will get him teased a little.
wc: 1.9k+
cw: hurt/comfort, happy ending, i may have fluffified dally a little
The slam of the Curtis’s front door is so loud that everybody straightens up, immediately expecting a yell from Darry for treating the house so poorly. Everyone is surprised when that doesn’t happen. More so, everyone is surprised when they turn to find Dallas looking morbidly stressed, his face void of any of its natural colour.
“What do I do when my girl is angry and I need to make her… not angry?”
The boys all cackle loudly at Dallas’s dilemma, and Ponyboy, who would usually refrain from making any comments at Dally’s expense, feels brave enough to question “You mean you haven’t dumped her for being mad at you?”
“Wow, you must like this girl.” Teases Steve, grinning widely. Dallas doesn’t find any of this funny, his face unchanging from its current state of stress. He’s not going to acknowledge Steve’s jab, because yes, he does like you, and indeed, you are the only girl he hasn’t dumped for disagreeing with him. However, Dallas does have to admit, he doesn’t understand why are you’re mad at him. Not at all.
“Where’s Darry?” He asks, huffing when three hands immediately point down the hall in the direction of the three rooms. From his spot in the living room, Dally can see that the bathroom door is cracked open, which only means one thing: Darry is in his bedroom. He hesitates; there’s no way he can just stroll up and knock on Darry’s door to ask advice about a girl. One he’s only been with for a couple of months at that (which is longer than he can say for his past relationships).
“What’s wrong, Dally boy?” Starts Two-Bit, more engaged in the conversation than his television show for once. “Too scared to knock on big ol’ Darrel’s door?” Dallas huffs, walking past the boys in the room and in the direction of Darry’s room. He pauses in the hallway when the older boy’s door cracks open on its own and Darry comes out, a white towel slung over his shoulder. When his eyes lift up from the floor and land on Dally, they go wide in surprise, not expecting him there at all, let alone looking so vulnerable.
“Darry, Dally wants girl advice from you!” Calls Sodapop from the living room, and Dally feels too called out to retort anything back to him, the tips of his ears going bright red. The corner of Darry’s lip quirks up, but he shakes his head to wipe the smile off his face, nodding towards the dining table, where he walks past Dally to take a seat. Dally hesitantly takes a seat, throwing a glare to the five boys in the living room before sitting down in front of Darry.
When Dally doesn’t begin the conversation, Darry raises his eyebrows up, causing the man in front of him — very much resembling a boy in his sheepishness at the moment — to mumble “She’s mad at me.”
“I figured. What did you do?” Muffled chuckles behind Dally have him crossing his arms over his chest. He deliberates asking Darry to tell them to leave, but no, he needs to keep his reputation. “I don’t know what I did wrong!” Dally exclaims, but all Darry does is cross is arms over his chest and lean back into his chair. Dallas sighs. “Her words were: I’m not gonna sit around waiting for you when you’re just a man. I have other things I could be doing.”
“Were you late again, Dally?” Johnny asks from where he’s sat in the living room, and Dally furrows his eyebrows, twisting around in his chair to look at the younger boy. He finds everyone looking back at him expectantly. “What do you mean ‘late again’?”
“As in, were you late to a date just like you’re late to everything else in life?” Clarifies Steve.
“I’m not late to everything!” Complains Dally defensively, squaring his shoulders when everyone’s faces morph into deadpanned expressions. He turns around to Darry, expecting the man to defend him to the other boys. What he’s met with is the same unimpressed expression.
“Dallas, you’re always late.” He says, not offensively, but truthfully.
“Man, it sounds like she’s doing you a favour by not breaking up with you. If a lady says she has lots of other things she could be doing, she’s talking about men.” Dally hears shuffling before Two-Bit pulls out a chair and sits next to him at the table.
“Two-Bit is right, Dallas. She’s giving you a chance to treat her the way she deserves before she leaves you for someone else who will treat her better than you. The reason she hasn’t left you yet is because she likes you.”
Dallas furrows his brows, his arms loosening over his chest. “All that over being late a couple of times?”
Darry sighs, placing his towel on the back of the chair beside him. “Dally, every time you’re late, you show her that you care less and less. You don’t value her time, so you don’t value her. Do you care about her Dally?”
Darry’s question surprises Dally, who swallows thickly, intimidated by the clearly watchful eyes around him. But after a long moment, he nods, voice quiet as he admits “Yeah, I care about her a lot.” Darry nods, appreciative of the boy’s honesty. He replies in a soft voice. “Okay, good. Now you have to show her you care. And that starts by showing up on time. But you can’t just do the minimum for a girl if you want her to know you like her. You’ve got to go out of your way to do things for her.”
“Like flowers.” Dally sighs in annoyance. A slap on the back of his head has him pushing his chair back to fight whoever it was, but a stern call of Dally’s name from the one person he fears has him slumping back in his chair. He soon discovers the hit had come from Sodapop, who takes a seat at the head of the table and tells Dally “Man, you don’t know the things I’d do if I still had Sandy. Flowers are nothing.”
Flowers are nothing.
Dallas replays that sentence in his mind over and over for the rest of the day, even when he lays on his bed back at Buck’s, asking himself about the things you love. How would he show you that he cares?
He’s never asked a girl to be his girlfriend before. He’d go on a couple of dates then go unresponsive, or acknowledge them just enough that he could have company on boring nights. But he’d taken you out more times in a single week than he’d had a total number of dates with any other girl in the entirety of their relationship. Dallas doesn't just want your company, he craves it. He likes taking you home from dates and kissing you softly, and likes having an arm around you no matter where you are. He used to hate when girls draped themselves over him on their dates, but with you? He needs everyone to know that you’re his.
So he buys the flowers, he buys some chocolate, and he buys something infinitely lasting. Something meaningful. Well, it’s not meaningful to him, but he knows from the stack on your bed that you’ll keep the teddy bear forever. And of course, he climbs the pipe to your bedroom window instead of having to face either of your parents at the front door. It’s a little bit of a struggle with all the things he’s carrying, but he manages.
Dally becomes sad while he looks through the window. You’re sat on the floor, cassette player next to you as you massage a thin cream onto your smooth face. He can’t believe you’ve ever been sat somewhere waiting for him, thinking he didn’t care about you. How did you manage to look at him afterwards?
Finally, Dally brings a hand up to knock on your window. Your head snaps towards the window, and Dally sees you squint at the glass before your expression turns to one of realisation. Dally smiles to himself when you push yourself off the floor, rushing to open the window. He sees the conflict across your features when you come face to face with him, and gulps thickly when you take a step back for him to enter your room. He drops his little gifts onto the floor before hoisting himself into your room. A little huff leaves him when he drops onto the floor, turning around to shut the window behind him. He scrambles to pick up the bouquet and teddy bear, leaving the chocolates on the floor so he can turn to you with a feeling he can only describe as vulnerable.
“Um, I do care.” Dally says, clearing his throat. You put your hands on your hips, a small frown making its way onto your features, but you let Dally continue. “And I didn’t realise that being late meant that I was showing you I don’t care. But I understand that now. I get that I need to make more of an- an effort with you so you don’t leave me for some other man.” Dallas blinks quickly, moving his gaze to the floor. He feels like throwing up. He is going to throw up. He inhales shakily, feeling a lump form in his throat. God, he is about to spread the most vile story about you if you turn him away now.
Except you don’t.
“Look at me Dally.” Dally refuses to glance up at you. You bring a hand up below his chin, pushing his face up so he can meet your gaze. You're not frowning anymore, but you still don't seem exactly happy. You hate that he looks adorable like this. Yes, you’re still mad at him, and no, you don’t understand how he didn’t see your point from the beginning, but ultimately, he has never stripped himself from his tough exterior in front of you, and it is just so charming.
“Hey. I can forgive you this time.” You tease, only half joking. He knows. Dally nods, hesitantly beginning to wrap his arms around you. You step forward into his chest, leaning into his body so he can hug you, and you bring your arms up to hold him in your arms too. “Can I… Can I get a kiss?” Dally mumbles against your hair, and you pull back slightly to look at him. You tilt your face up, a hand snaking up his chest to rest on the side of his neck.
Dally smiles softly at you before leaning in, his lips melding with yours. You can feel the way his entire body relaxes against yours, and it makes you breathe out in amusement. You pull away from the kiss, and Dally’s body jerks forward to follow you, but you put both hands on his shoulders to stop him. He looks betrayed for a moment, but you take the bouquet and cute bear from his hands, gently placing them on your bed before throwing yourself onto him. He stumbles back a step as you wrap your arms over his shoulders, lip slamming onto his, and he can’t help but smile into the kiss, his arms tightening around you to hold you close to him as he kisses you with all the passion he can muster.
When you pull away, it’s because you’re out of breath. Dally is panting too, but it seems he would have kept going if you hadn’t broken the kiss. He puffs his chest up, suddenly arrogant again, and you roll your eyes, pushing away from him to sit on your bed. You pick up the teddy bear, smiling down at it, and turn it around to face Dally.
“So what do you want to name him?”
Dally feels honoured to have even been given that opportunity.
The greaser gang thinking reader cheated after seeing a hickey on her neck, and it results in the big argument
(it's a burn mark from a curling iron)
“THATS A WHAT—”
The gang thinks you’re pulling their fucking leg but you know damn well that it was just a curling iron. Somehow some of them just don’t believe it until you show ‘em what happened.
PONYBOY:
- it was a normal day. Everything was going well… until he saw it…
- now Ponyboy’s mind goes runnin’ wild. He notices it and his chest tightens immediately.
- I’d like to think he kinda spirals.
- he would start asking weird and indirect questions like:
“Have you been… seeing anyone…?”
- now this is when the argument starts and lemme tell you emotional and messy.
- he then says something he regrets almost instantly:
“I just don’t wanna be stupid.”
- when you finally get to explain, he looks devastated—not relieved…
“I didn’t want to believe it… but I thought maybe…”
- he then apologizes in the most comfortable way he can be; writing letters.
- saying out loud feels too heavy for him.
JOHNNY:
- Johnnycake notices the mark and immediately starts thinking the worst about himself, nah, not you. But him.
- Johnny thinks that you went ahead and cheated because he wasn’t good enough for you. He had always thought he wasn’t good enough for you because that’s how Johnny processed it but he still loves you with all his heart.
- he doesn’t exactly confront you about it right away—he withdraws.
- oh but when the argument happens, it’s quiet but heartbreaking…
“If you wanted someone else, you could’ve told me…”
- but when you snap back at him saying it’s a burn from a curling iron, his whole fucking face drains of color.
- he’s mortified to say the least.
- he apologizes over and over and over again.
“I didn’t mean—I just got scared…”
- after that, he never doubts you like that ever again.
DALLY:
- oh when Winston sees the mark, it’s fucking instant reaction.
- anger first. Sharp. Ugly.
“Who the hell did that?”
- he accuses you outright and it’s harsh…
- then the argument explodes and I mean EXPLODES.
- he’ll say something cruel that he can’t easily take back.
“So you’re whoring around now? Two-timin’ lil broad. All of y’all are the same.”
- when you throw the curling iron on the table and yell, “I burned myself asshole!”
- then, silence…
- he goes absolutely fucking still after that.
- the guilt hits him like a punch to the ribs.
- he apologizes in the only way he knows how—quiet, rough, holding your face like he’s grounding himself.
“I don’t like the idea of losing you, doll. Makes me stupid…”
- needless to say, his past trauma with his ex, Sylvia, all came back to the surface for a split second as he saw that mark on your neck. But you two were good in the end.
SODAPOP:
- Soda sees it and goes absolutely fucking quiet.
- Too quiet. Deathly quiet. (Oh damn…)
- He tries to joke at first, but it doesn’t land too well.
“That… new?”
- When you don’t answer fast enough, his smile fades.
- He doesn’t yell—he looks hurt.
“Just tell me the truth.”
- The argument breaks him more than it breaks you.
- He hates that he even thought it.
- When you show him the curling iron and explain, he looks sick to his fucking stomach.
“I didn’t mean—I just—”
“It’s okay, Soda…”
- He spends the rest of the night apologizing and holding you like he’s scared you’ll leave. Try not to do that to sweet Sodapop again, I keep tellin’ ya…
STEVE:
- Steve’s reaction is sharp and defensive.
“You expect me not to notice this bullshit right in front of me?”
- He’s sarcastic at first, masking insecurity. He’ll hide that shit pretty good but pretty bad at the same time.
- The argument gets heated fast.
- He accuses. You snap back harder.
- When you explain and show him proof, he freezes.
- Realizes he just accused you of the worst thing possible. Which hurt Randle.
“Shit… I messed up.”
- He spends the next few days trying to make it up to you in small, awkward ways. He takes you to the DX more, buys you more of your favorite sodas, small cute stuff like that.
TWO-BIT:
- Two-Bit jokes at first—but it’s forced.
“Damn, didn’t know you were gettin’ popular.”
- You snap immediately.
- The argument turns serious fast.
- He accuses you, then hates himself for it.
- When you explain, his face falls.
“I didn’t mean it like that…”
- He apologizes with humor turned inward instead of at you.
“Guess I’m the idiot this time.”
“I guess so. But I still love you anyways.”
DARRY:
- Darry notices the mark immediately. His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing—not angry yet, just… guarded. Really fucking guarded.
- He doesn’t accuse you outright at first. He asks questions that feel like tests. He just wants to make sure…
“Where’d that come from?”
- When you get defensive instead of explaining, it flips something in him.
“Don’t lie to me.”
- The argument turns sharp. Controlled, but cutting.
- He says something like, “I give everything for this relationship—so don’t insult me.”
- When you finally snap and yell that it’s a burn, he freezes.
- Guilt hits him hard.
- He apologizes immediately—but it’s heavy, serious.
“I should’ve trusted you before I trusted my damn fear.”
summary: No matter how hard the boys in the room pretended not to be interested in your conversation, they could not succeed. because sometimes, your girly gossip was too good, even if they could only hear one side of the conversation
wc: 1.3k+
No matter how hard the boys in the room pretended not to be interested in your conversation, they could not succeed. The Curtis’s living room was full, as per usual, the same dynamics installed in the lively house, but one thing was different tonight. Instead of being sprawled across Sodapop’s lap on the couch, taking part in disgusting displays of affection — which was never more than a kiss because there were children around — you were huddled up on the floor by a side table, one knee close to your chest as you trapped the house phone between your ear and shoulder, filing your nails as you took part in conversation with your friend.
And all around you, where conversation and loud television audio usually plays, there was silence. Every single boy in the house was turned towards you, keeping their gaze on the muted television in guise of paying attention to it rather than you. You stopped filing your nails for a moment, gesturing your hands outwardly as you laughed in disbelief. "That is so ironic. The entire reason she left her last school was because her friend overheard girls talking badly about her and told her, and now she’s going to trash talk us and expect our friends not to say anything!? Those are such double standards" You dropped the nail file, letting the metal softly clang onto the floor below you as you continued. "And she’s the new one here. Why is she under the impression that our best friend is going to keep her word rather than back us up?"
You huffed loudly, shaking your head as you picked up the nail file, continuing your prior movements. Dally tapped his feet rhythmically on the ground, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray atop the table next to you. You briefly glanced his way, but clearly, your attention was elsewhere. You closed your eyes for a short moment, shaking your head with a wave of your hand, as though your friend could see it.
"Okay, we get that she talked crap, but what did she say, and do I need to beat her up?"
Soda, sat on the floor in front of you, brought a hand to your thigh, placing his chin on the knee of your folded leg. He softly caressed your skin by repeating circular motions on it with his thumb. You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration, but you lifted a hand up anyway, cupping your boyfriend’s jaw for a short moment and stroking the soft skin of his cheek. Soda grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his face so he could press a kiss to your open palm.
From the other side of the living room, Two-Bit put his beer down, leaning his elbows on his thighs to get a closer look at your facial expressions. Facial expressions which did not communicate any positive emotions. "Oh that is grand coming from a woman whose boyfriend left her for her cousin!"
Steve patted the couch next to him, feeling for the remote control. He turned the TV off at the sound of your words, completely tuning into your conversation. "Oh don’t worry Aubrey, she’s very quickly going to learn to keep her mouth shut about me and my boyfriend." Sodapop straightened up at your words, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He scrambled away as you put a hand on Dally’s thigh on the couch behind you, using it as leverage to push yourself off the ground. The phone wire stretched upwards as you stood up, dragging your shoes closer to you with a kick of your foot.
As you listened to Aubrey’s next words, you spotted Darry leaning on the kitchen’s doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest with a towel slung over his shoulder. You only glanced back down at the feeling of someone’s hand on your ankle. You smiled softly at the sight of Soda, so sweetly guiding your foot into your slightly heeled shoe. Placing an arm on Sodapop’s shoulder to balance yourself, you pushed your opposite foot into the second shoe. Do you wanna come over and talk about it? Aubrey asked on the other side of the line. You know, you can let it all out and then speak to her tomorrow.
"Aubrey, the only thing I need to let out is my opinion of her to her face and have her sent right back to that school she hated so much. She’ll do better where she’s hated and insecure than she'll do around me." Dally whistled longly, sinking into the couch. Sodapop’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to stand up, putting both hands on your shoulders to stop you from going anywhere. Aubrey yapped away on the other side of the line, but you interrupted her, saying "Aubrey, I’m coming over, I’ll see you in ten."
You hung up the phone, turning away from Sodapop to grab your purse, unaware of all seven pairs of eyes on you. Sodapop followed your movements, trying not to let you past the front door. You slung your purse onto your shoulder, staring blankly at your concerned boyfriend. "Don’t worry, I’m not going to be as mean as I was on the phone." You told him. "Be meaner." Dally said, and you turned to look at him with a grin, winking his way.
Soda sighed, a small smile on his face as he reached for you. You let him tug you closer to him by a hand around your waist, bringing a hand up to rest on his shoulder. "Don’t get yourself in trouble for me." Soda whispered, and you offered him a tight lipped smile, leaning in to press a short kiss to his cheek, leaving him with a print of lip gloss on his skin.
He didn’t make way to wipe it away.
"Don’t forget you’re not the only person she talked badly of, Soda. I’m just going to teach her to watch her mouth."
Soda brought his second hand up to your waist, nodding okay. You swallowed thickly, letting the fury show on your face when he turned away from you to grab his car keys. "What did she say about you and your boyfriend?" Ponyboy called out from next to Johnny. You glanced towards him, chewing on your bottom lip before looking back at Sodapop, eyes angrily glossing over with fresh tears. The boys caught the look on your face and the subtle shake of your head. Johnny made a mental note to ask you about it later, when no one else would be around. You’d tell him then.
Soda tossed his car keys from hand to hand, an easy smile on his face. "Where am I taking you?" He asked softly, and you tilted your head to the side, a surge of fondness filling you. You stepped closer to him, closing a hand around the creased fabric of his shirt and pulling him close to you so you could press your lips against his in a loving kiss. Soda, clearly not expecting the kiss, only began returning it as you pulled away, a confused look on his face as you told him "I love you." He returned the words, a worried pinch forming between his eyebrows.
"Take it outside!" Called out Steve, picking up the TV remote again. Soda grinned boyishly, grabbing your hand in his and pulling you out the front door with him. He raced you to the passenger door, pulling it open for you and helping you inside before climbing in. He was so precious, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have such a loving, intelligent, emotional, precious boyfriend. Or according to Aubrey, as Sarah called him, your degenerate boyfriend. You furrowed your eyebrows as you recalled the words in your head.
For such a try hard, she really stooped low with that degenerate boyfriend of hers.
AU where Maverick is Cougars little brother who was adopted at 8 years old when Bill was 13. He initially was turned off by the kid but said kid grew on him like fungus and by the time Bill was 14 Pete was firmly his little brother.
But hes still as reckless because he wants to prove that he's not just "Cortells little stray who's old man went AWOL"
I feel like you can tell the outsiders was written by a 15 year old girl. Not because it's poorly written or anything, but ponyboy is actually just so teenage girl coded
forever a supporter of the dynamic that Dick is a dickhead older brother, but only specifically to Jason.
like, i feel like Jason was the only one he got to be a proper big brother too, rather than more of a mentor/guardian figure. when Jason was around he was barely even an adult, and Jason was a little shit of a pre-teen that gave as good as he took. Dick 100% was a piece of shit to him in the brotherly sense. with all the others though? after losing Jason and growing up and being the one that had to hold everything apart every time Bruce got lost in grief/a timestream or something, he is a completely different type of brother to the others than he is to Jason, and i think it would be funny to see the others slowly start to realise how different Dick's relationship is to Jason compared to the rest of them.
like, just the little things. they're all at the manor for a weekend and Dick makes Tim and Damian breakfast, ruffling their hair and sliding pancakes onto their plates. then Jason comes in and makes himself a piece of toast and Dick instantly jabs him in the ribs before stealing the food from his plate.
he always lets the others win at mario kart, chuckling easily whenever he's beaten at any game and actually seeming more proud at them for winning than sad for losing. then Jason picks up Damian's abandoned remote and suddenly he's all focus. snatching the player 1 remote and making Jason be player 2 and the two are literally trying to shove each other off the couch with how hard they're trying to beat each other. if Dick wins, you can hear his yells of mocking from across the manor. if Jason wins and he tries to say anything at all? Dick body slams him to the ground and they're fighting for a solid half an hour.
he steals Jason's shit all the time, and yet the one time Duke saw Jason walk into Dick's bedroom to borrow a shirt, Dick clocked it from down the hall and just yelled 'FUCK OUT MY ROOM' and Jason pivoted and left without even faltering in his movement, like he'd fully expected to be denied. it's worth mentioning that that very same day Tim asked Dick if he could borrow some socks and Dick told them all sincerely that they could go in and take whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. it's just Jason that isn't allowed, apparently.
for the record i think it goes both ways, and i think Jason is also the only guy who knows how to get under Dick's skin in that Specific Little Brother Manner. like that's his big brother, his only big brother. i think the others he either views as little kids to protect or just... random guys that were adopted while he was gone that he didn't even properly meet until he was an adult and out of the house, so he never really built a proper antagonistic sibling relationship with anybody else. Dick though? he pours salt into every glass of water he sees Dick drink out of. he steals his stuff. he stands just outside the doorway of Dick's room just so that when Dick yells for him to get the fuck out he can say 'i'm not in your room, you can't make me do anything'. he snitches on him to Bruce whenever he can, and whenever he figures out Dick has a crush on anybody he relentlessly tries to embarrass Dick in front of them.
anyway i just like to think about a Dick and Jason who are the only true childhood-brother pairs, and whenever they're in the same room for more than three minutes it shows. much to Bruce's everlasting exhaustion, because seriously how are these two still as bad as they were almost a decade ago??
I love the idea that dally died in regret. He regrets letting ponyboy and Johnny go into the church. He regrets telling ponyboy to get tough. He regrets dying because ponyboy still needs him. He regrets leaving the gang. He regrets not protecting Johnny more.
