EXPECTATIONS
The Bright Sessions
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Product Placement
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Sade Olutola
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Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
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@curtisgang4life
The Outsiders: Masterlist
(note: i'll add to the list as i write. i mostly like to write curtis!sister fanfics, but you if have any requests for any kind of outsiders fanfics, send me an ask, bc i'm always down for some new ideas/inspo!)
(p.s. i write everything on mobile, so i'm sorry if it doesn't translate well to desktop/laptop version!)
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
timeline of the outsiders
☹ = angst
✿ = fluff
꩜ = hurt/comfort
★ = explicit content/smut
curtis!sister
headcanons
closet essentials
school outfits
bedroom
photography hobby
dynamics w/ the gang (blurbs) ✿
jumped part 2 ☹ ꩜
hospitality (curtis!reader x johnny cade) ☹ ✿
no rumbles part 2 ☹ ꩜
the aftermath part 2 part 3 part 4 (curtis!sister x johnny cade) ☹ ꩜
forbidden fruit (curtis!sister x dallas winston) ★
songbird ☹ ꩜
blood in the water (ponyboy!twinsister) ☹
a curtis christmas: 1956 ✿
the weight of the world part 2 ☹ ꩜
the whole gang (preferences/blurbs)
the gang as 1965 love song lyrics
the 4th of july ✿
the gang's scents
Darry Curtis
headcanons
birthday boy ☹
Sodapop Curtis
headcanons
Ponyboy Curtis
waiting by the window (reader x ponyboy curtis)☹ ✿
Johnny Cade
headcanons
Dallas Winston
none yet
Two-Bit Mathews
none yet
Steve Randle
none yet
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
The Weight of the World:
Part Two
(curtis!sister)
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: hi! it's been a minute again, so sorry about that. finally have a part 2 tho, so yay! it's a long one. my longest yet, i believe, so be prepared! also, yesterday i hit 100 followers!! that's crazy! thank you all, and if you're new here, welcome! :) same little message as with the first part, but please skip this one if it may be triggering to you! and, if you are struggling with anything like this, please reach out and ask for help! and as always, my inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to!
pairings: none.
tw: disordered eating. purging. angst. depression.
description: the secret's out. no more hiding it. how'd things get so messed up like this?
word count: 4.5k
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
When morning came, Darry waited around as long as he could before he had to leave for work. He wanted to talk to you about last night. He wanted to see you eat something for breakfast with his own two eyes. He had been hammering on your bedroom door for about ten minutes before Soda got him to quit. You were huddled underneath your many blankets, pretending to be oblivious to the incessant knocking and not making a single sound. Trails of long-since dried tears still lingered on your cheeks. Your eyes red and swollen. Despite the extreme exhaustion you felt, you didn't sleep a single minute last night.
"(Y/N). Just come out here and let me at least see ya before I go, please?", Darry pleaded between knocks, leaning his forehead against the smooth wood of your door.
"Dar, you're gonna be late for work...," Sodapop said. He stood behind Darry, a look of pity on his face.
"She can't stay in there all day, Soda. Ignorin' us and actin' like nothing happened last night," Darry mumbled while turning to face his little brother.
"I know, Darry. I know. Steve said he could handle the DX on his own for the day, so I'm stayin' here and keepin' my eye on her, okay? Now get a move on."
Darry sighed deeply. His chest almost too heavy to fill with air. He finally had no choice but to leave without satisfaction. He shook his head as he walked towards the front door, Sodapop trailing behind him. He grabbed the truck keys, his work belt, and his wallet. He turned back to Soda as he pushed the door open.
"I meant what I said last night, Soda. If she doesn't eat today, we gotta take her to the doctor. Or-or the hospital. Maybe they can do somethin' for her that we can't."
After he finished his statement, he left the house without another word. Ponyboy walked out of the bathroom to the front door striking the frame with a harsh thud, having been woken up by all of Darry's knocking. Soda's conversation with Darrel had been overheard by the youngest Curtis.
"What're we gonna do about her?", he asked while sitting down on the couch.
Soda took the spot next to his little brother. He sank into the couch, threw his head back, and closed his eyes while thinking. After a moment, he lifted up and addressed Ponyboy.
"I'm not sure, Pony. It was definitely too much pressure at dinner yesterday. To make her sit with all our eyes on her. Pushing that huge plate of food in front her face. Not the right approach."
"I told Darry that wouldn't work!", Pony griped.
"And you were right, Pone. I'm not tryin' to argue, I agree with ya! I think we gotta take it slow. Take away some of the anxiety."
Soda placed his elbows on his knees. A hand reached up to cup his chin, his thumb rhythmically stroking his jawline as he pondered his next move. An idea popped into his head after a minute or so.
"Go get ready. I'll give ya some money, and you and Johnny can go hangout around town, alright? Go to the movies. Get some food at The Dingo. Whatever. Just stay gone a while. I feel like if it's just me and her, I have a better chance of gettin' her to eat. Or maybe even tellin' why she's doing this," Sodapop decided.
"Are you sure, Soda? I could help. It shouldn't be all up to you..."
"I'm sure, honey. Now get dressed. I'm bettin' Johnny will be walkin' in any minute now."
As if right on queue, Johnny Cade entered the Curtis house. A normal weekend for him consisted of hanging around the house with you and Pony while Darry, Soda, and Steve were at work. Two-Bit would sometimes come around after his hangover wore off. It was anyone's guess where Dally might be. He did occasionally stop by during the day, but never hung around for long. Too afraid of missing out on some action that might happen out in town.
"Hey, ya'll what's-," he couldn't even complete his sentence before he was being interrupted by Ponyboy.
"We're goin' out today, Johnnycakes," Pony announced as he hopped up from the couch and went to his bedroom to throw on some clothes.
"Is (Y/N) comin' with us?", Johnny questioned.
"She's not feelin' well. I stayed outta work to be here with her. I'm sure Pony'll tell ya all about it later, okay?", Soda answered.
"Oh. Uh. Alright," Johnny replied, a little confused.
Johnny joined Soda on the couch, watching TV and waiting for Ponyboy. They didn't really talk, but Johnny could see that something was troubling Sodapop. Johnny has always been very good at sensing when there is tension or conflict going unspoken, a trauma response learned from years of tiptoeing around his parents and doing his best to protect himself from their mood swings. Johnny was staring Soda down, trying to get any sense of what was going on inside his head, when Ponyboy came out of the bedroom, now fully dressed. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a minute greasing his hair. Then, he strode into the living room. Soda got up off the couch, reached in his wallet, and pulled out a $10 bill.
"That should be plenty, with some extra in case you run into Two or Dally. You can pay for them too, and tell 'em not to stop by, okay? Not today."
Soda whispered the last part as he handed the money to Pony. Johnny still heard it though, and his confusion only grew.
"Sure thing, Soda. Good luck...," Ponyboy said while glancing towards the hall at your bedroom. "Come on, Johnny, let's go."
Johnny looked between the brothers and hesitated for a second before following Pony outside.
"Tell (Y/N) that I-I hope she feels better," Johnny stated. He took one last look at Soda then walked out onto the porch, shutting the storm door carefully, so it wouldn't slam.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
It wasn't too long after Ponyboy and Johnny left that you emerged from your bedroom. You were hoping, after hearing the front door open and close so many times, that everyone had gone and left you to your own devices. Once in the hallway, though, you spotted Sodapop in the kitchen. He was standing in front of the stove with his back to you. Despite being as quiet as possible while trying to sneak back into your bedroom, he heard the footsteps. His attention turned to your slim figure sauntering out from the shadows. He gave you a warm smile and spoke softly to you as he continued with his cooking.
"Hiya! Sleep well?"
"Slept fine, Soda," you lied, also somehow managing a little bit of a smile.
You slipped past him to get to the bathroom. Soda saw right through you, saw the puffy eyes, heard the slight scratchiness in your voice, but he chose to leave it be for now. You avoided your reflection in the mirror as best you could. You didn't need a mirror to know you looked disgusting. After finishing your business, you did decide to step on the scale though. You felt huge after what you had eaten last night. Only a few bites, but your brain told you that you were no better than a pig. The scale confirmed your worst fears when, after peaking towards your feet, you saw that it was reading two pounds heavier than yesterday morning. How was that even possible? Your heart started racing, but you calmed yourself quickly, knowing that you'd have to face Soda in just a moment. You grabbed a washcloth and wiped your face down with warm water. After a couple of deep breaths, you exited the bathroom.
When you came out, you noticed Soda had moved from the kitchen to dining room table. In front of him was two plates and two glasses. Each plate had scrambled eggs, a piece of ham, and a piece of toast. The glasses were full to the top with milk. You knew which plate and glass was Soda's, because his eggs had grape jelly on top, and his milk was chocolate. That meant the others must've been for you. After all, it was only you and him in the house. The worst part wasn't potentially having to struggle through another meal under the observation of one of your brothers. No. The worst part was that the smell was so good, it was making your stomach hurt. After avoiding food for as long as you had, the small bites taken last night had reawakened a greedy hunger in you. You almost forgot what it felt like to be so hungry. You had learned through these last couple of months that it gets to a point during starvation, usually the third or fourth day of no eating, that you don't even feel the pains anymore at all. You loathed how much you wanted this food right now. Sodapop caught the way you stared longingly at the plate, and he was hoping that maybe it was a good sign.
"Sit with me?", he asked you.
You were still eyeing the plate, your eyes beginning to glisten as they started to water.
"I won't make you eat it if you don't want to, baby girl. I promise," he said quickly after seeing that you were starting to get worked up.
You nodded slowly and took the seat in front of him. As you looked at the food, your stomach gave off a loud growl. Your body had betrayed you, giving away just how hungry you really were. Your face flushed with embarrassment, head falling towards your lap and eyes closing briefly. Without skipping a beat, Soda went right into eating his own food and talking animatedly about this and that. You were more than grateful for him taking the attention away from you. As he was telling you about a prank he pulled on Steve at the DX the other day, he laughed so hard that some eggs flew out of his mouth; he's always had the habit of talking with his mouth full. This made him laugh even harder, and it earned a genuine smile and chuckle from you too. His eyes sparkled when he saw your smile, the real one.
You started to think that maybe just a little bit of eggs might not be a bad idea. Protein is good, and maybe it'd help you make it through your run tonight. You picked up the fork sitting by your plate, stabbed a couple pieces of the eggs, and brought it your mouth. You hesitated just a bit, but ultimately put the bite in and chewed. Soda remained calm and pretended to be aloof, but he was cheering and doing cartwheels in his head. He kept you engaged with his conversation, trying to be the best distraction he could. After a couple of bites, you took a big swig of your milk.
"I'm stealin' your ham!", Soda remarked as he reached over and grabbed it from your plate. He stuck tongue out at you like a little kid.
"It's all your's brother!", you said with a laugh.
You went to take a bite of toast, and it was all you could do to swallow it, like some switch inside you had flipped. You had barely made made a dent in the food, but the guilt was already creeping in. How had you let yourself get caught in Soda's trap? Let your guard down? You were going to do better today after last night. You were going to make up for it, and now you were deeper in the hole. Soda had tricked you.
He finished his up his own food now. He stood from the table, with plate in hand, and walked around to your side.
"Are you finished?", he questioned. You could tell by the way he subconsciously held his breath that he was hoping you'd say 'no'.
"Yes. I'm done." You replied flatly.
Sodapop placed your plate on top of his and picked up your glass of milk.
"You must've been hungry, darlin'!" He placed a kiss on the top of your head before walking to the kitchen and placing the dishes in the sink.
You sat there listening to Soda's whistling and the clanking of the dishes in the water as he washed them. His words ringing in your ears over and over, like they were mocking you. "You must've been hungry...You must've been hungry...You must've been hungry..." Your stomach felt like lead in your body. Your hands were shaking and palms were sweaty. You rose from your seat and made your way to the bathroom. You didn't want Sodapop to see how much you were panicking. After you had closed the door quietly behind you, you started to pace the small room. Your heart was pounding, your chest heaving up and down fast. You were lost in your thoughts, eyes closed, trying to calm yourself.
When you opened your eyes, your attention was drawn to something unexpected. The toilet. You didn't even have time to think before you were on your knees in front of it. It was like you were watching what happened next from outside of your body. You bowed over the bowl and shoved your fingers down your throat. You hadn't ever done this before, but it seemed to come naturally to you. After a couple of gags with nothing to show for them, the small breakfast you had eaten was now floating in the water with the last few tries. Some stray tears had escaped from the edges of your eyes during the purging, so you wiped them away with the back of your hand. You stood, shut the toilet's lid, and flushed. Your breathing had slowed now, but you were still shaky. You walked to the sink, rinsed your mouth out with some water, and dried on the towel hanging off the shower.
With a deep breath, you unlocked the door, turned the handle, and stepped out. Your eyes immediately fell onto Soda standing right outside the bathroom, leaning against his bedroom door. He had his arms crossed, his gaze locked on floor. Deep lines etched his brow, a miserable expression painted across his face. You weren't really sure how to spin this into anything else than what it clearly had been. You still tried to play it cool anyway.
"H-Hey, Soda...you, uh... you wanna watch some TV?", you stammered to him.
After a few seconds, he lifted his head. When you saw how pitiful and pained he looked, it worsened the hollow feeling you had in your chest. He had tear streaks trailing down his handsome face.
"Did you just make yourself sick?" He could barely choke out the terrible question.
His eyes pleaded with you for an honest answer. You couldn't find any words, your throat and mouth suddenly very dry. Sodapop knew what you had done. He didn't really need confirmation from you.
"Why, (Y/N)? Why did you do that? Can you please tell me why you're doin' this to your beautiful, perfect body?" He sounded so weak and beaten down.
"I...I...I just...," your voice wobbled and finally broke.
The last bit of any kind of strength you possessed was failing. Your body trembled violently. Heavy weeping overtook your entire being. Soda wrapped you tightly in his arms to keep you from falling to the ground. He scooped you up with ease and carried you to the couch. You curled up in his lap, your face hidden in his chest, crying until you thought couldn't possibly have any tears left and then crying some more. Soda shushed you and hummed to you while rubbing up and down your back with his hand.
"It's okay, baby doll. Soda's got ya. I'm right here..."
You had been feeling his tears dripping onto your head every now and then as he held you. After what felt like ages, your crying had finally begun to fade. Now, all that remained was the occasional hiccup and sniffle. Soda looked down to you, gently grasping your chin in his hand to guide your eyes up to his own.
"You ready to talk now?", he asked you.
You cleared your throat, wiping your nose off on your sleeve as you did. You slid off his lap onto the cushion beside him, sitting cross-legged and facing him head on. You picked at the skin around your fingernails. He studied you carefully and waited for you to speak up. Where would you even begin? In all honesty, you were embarrassed.
"It's stupid...," you whispered.
"No. It's not stupid. I don't care what the reasons are, if they've been makin' you think you need to starve yourself and make yourself sick, they aren't stupid. They're serious," he stated with a stern, but soft voice.
Looking into his glossy eyes with your own, you allowed yourself spill all the secrets you had been keeping in. You started with how all you really wanted to do in the beginning was just eat a little less to help save on the groceries bills. You knew Darry struggled for money, and you wanted to be able to help somehow. Once you were really starting to think about how things had gotten to this point for the first time, you couldn't help but to mention to him about how you felt like you needed to be perfect. You couldn't step out of line. You felt you had to be the one sibling Darrel knew he could count on to stay out of trouble and do what was expected of them. You couldn't make bad grades. You couldn't fight back with him. You couldn't be another frustration or thing for him to worry about. You just couldn't. You had to be the best. That kind of pressure put you in a situation where any little mistake, no matter how small, filled you with unimaginable, crippling fear. The fear of failure. You felt helpless, like nothing you did or said mattered at all. Nothing was your choice anymore.
He listened earnestly while you went on to tell him that once you found out how good it felt to be empty, to have control over something for once in your life, and finally feel like you had some kind of twisted power, you got addicted to it. You clung to it for dear life. No one could tell you what to eat or not eat. No one could stop you from getting smaller and smaller. Only you had the ability. The smaller you got, the longer you went without eating, the more you felt at ease. You didn't feel trapped or like you suffocating anymore. You felt euphoric.
It didn't make any sense when you said it out loud, you knew that. You were sure you sounded crazy and sure that he wouldn't understand. You barely understood it yourself, but he nodded as he was taking in every single word you said. You had never seen him so still and focused on anything before, but being here with you and listening without judgment was the most important thing to him right now. You ended your spiel, and he sighed deeply.
"How long?", he questioned. "How long have you been sufferin' in silence, and we didn't notice?"
"About three months, I think...," you told him, your voice almost too quiet for him to hear.
He looked like he had been punched in the chest at your remark, almost flinching back from you. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and swallowed hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. After taking a moment to collect himself, he began to speak again.
"(Y/N), you're smart. You know this can't go on. You could die. Do you understand that? We've already lost Mom and Dad. We can't lose our sister too."
"I know, Soda...It's just so hard."
A blank look appeared on his face, and then he blurted out abruptly, "Darry wants to take you to the hospital. He said he was gonna, if you didn't eat today."
You felt all the blood drain from your face. Your body went rigid, and your heart picked up its pace. You looked at him in disbelief, your eyes wide with shock.
"No, no, no! Soda, no! You can't let him do that! I won't go! I won't do it!", you shot back at him.
"I don't want that, angel, but you need to look at this how we're seein' it. If you're not willin' to change or let us help ya, we won't have any other choice."
You reached out for his hands and wrapped your small, cold ones around them. You stared right into his eyes. You had a fresh round of tears in your own.
"Please, Soda! I can get better! I swear, I'll eat! I just need some time! Please, tell him to give me some time!", you shamelessly begged to your older brother.
Your words all jumbled together, they were flying out so quick. You were beginning to hyperventilate. Sodapop freed his hands from your grasp and pulled you into another hug.
"Shhh, calm down," he soothed while petting the back of your head. "None of us want you stuck in some hospital, okay? If you let us help ya, and you make an effort, we won't have to."
You pulled away from him and nodded.
"It's almost lunch time, why don't you go sit at the table, and I'll fix us somethin'," Soda said cautiously.
You faltered briefly before nodding to him again as the two of you got up from the couch. Soda made you both a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with chips on the side. You managed to finish one half of the sandwich and most of the chips. It was difficult to choke down the food, but you knew this needed to happen. Sodapop reassured you and encouraged you with each bite you took. After lunch, he thought it would be a good idea to lay down for a while and maybe take a nap to help you keep your food down. He led you to your bed and tucked you in, sitting next to you and combing his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep. He stayed like this for a long time, just watching and wishing he could take away all the pain you were feeling.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Sodapop left your room when he heard the front door opening. Ponyboy was back from hanging out with Johnny. Soda met him in the living room. He recounted your day together to Ponyboy, every excruciating detail, telling him almost word for word your explanation for why you thought this was happening.
"Glory, Soda. A few of months, really? I didn't think it had been goin' on that long," Ponyboy croaked. He pressed his face into his palms and dragged them down. He shook his head slowly, the horror of what his brother was telling him settling in. "And...she really made herself...throw-up?"
"Yeah, she did, Pone. It was awful. Havin' to just stand by and listen. She said that was the first time she ever did it. I'm not sure if I believe her or not," Soda lamented.
The brothers sat in a miserable silence for a while before they were shaken out of their daze by Darry entering the house.
He was barely through door before he was already asking Soda, "Well? Did she eat today?"
Soda told Darry to take a seat, and once he was sitting in his chair, Soda went right back into relaying the events of the day for a second time, this time for his older brother.
"Oh my god...," Darry said while running stiff fingers through his dark brown locks. "It's because of me?", he choked out. "She's killin' herself tryin' to please me, and I didn't even notice?"
His voice broke with emotion, several tears falling from his eyes.
"I-I just...I wanted a better life for y'all. I wanted you guys to get the opportunities I had to miss out on, you get that? I didn't know I was being too hard on ya. Now, look what I've done. I think a fool could've done better than me."
"Come on, Darry. Don't be like that, okay? You're doin' just fine. I don't think it's that simple. She knows she's got a problem, and she wants us to help her now. That's what's important." Sodapop moved to lay a hand on Darry's shoulder and give it a squeeze.
Darry sniffled a bit, but was fast with trying to pull himself back together.
"You said she ate her lunch today?", he questioned.
"Yeah, she did real good. I made her take a nap after, so she wouldn't think about bein' sick. Stayed with her 'til she was asleep," Soda explained.
"Good. Good...," Darry leaned back in his chair. His forehead wrinkled like he was deep in thought. "What do we do now?"
Both Ponyboy and Darrel looked to Sodapop for an answer. Soda wasn't entirely sure what should be done, but he tried his best to come up with some kind of plan.
"Uh, well. I think we should hold off on any doctors or the hospital. She begged me not to let you take her anywhere, Darry. Let's just give her some time and see if she can get a little better before makin' any decisions like that."
"Alright. I can live with that," Darry replied.
"I think we need some rules for her to follow. Like...like, she's gotta eat a little something at every meal. Try her best to. And...and no goin' to the bathroom after she eats for at least an hour...," Sodapop trailed off, trying to think of anything else that might be useful.
"No more runnin' with me until she's at a healthy weight again?", Ponyboy added, more of a question than a statement.
"Yes! That's good," Sodapop said. "And, we'll tell all the guys what's up, so they can look out for her too. Now, it's not gonna be easy. We've gotta be ready for some backslidin' ; it's not gonna go away overnight. We all in agreement?"
Ponyboy and Darry responded with a 'yeah' and a 'yes', and the brothers got to work preparing dinner. Today had been a rough day, and things were, without a doubt, going to be rough for a long time yet, but your brothers were willing to do whatever it took to make you whole again. With the cooking complete and the table set, Soda retuned to your room wake you. He drew a steady breath, steeled his nerves, and pushed your door open.
"Hey, little sister. Dinner's ready..."
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: i really didn't wanna just end with something like 'she got better. everyone was happy. the end.', bc things just don't work like that in the real world, ya know? especially issues like this. they never truly are 'over'. i wanted it to be more ambiguous/open instead of so obvious. i hope it was still a satisfying ending for you all. thank you for reading! <3
part 1
masterlist
i just hit 100 followers!!! 🎉OMG!!! thank you all so much for your support!! i love each and every one of you!!
i've been a little busy for the last few of weeks with an out-of-town trip and trying to get ready for school starting and such, but i'm working on a part 2 to 'the weight of the world' rn, and then i will get right on to working on a couple of requests i have gotten when i get finished!
i need to do some kind of 100 follower celebration, so if anyone has any ideas on what i should do, you all let me know!!
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH AGAIN!! I am so so happy to have you here!! 🩷
30 seconds of Two-Bit being Two-Bit on Tulsa Island for your feed! °o°
of course pony is falling for johnny, bc who wouldn't??
A Week of Curtis!Sister's School Outfits
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: i previously made a picture that was the essentials in curtis!sister's closet. however, i didn't think about the possible dress codes at school when making it. girls had pretty strict rules clothes wise in tulsa high schools during that time. Soc or no. they included: knee-length skirts or dresses only (no slacks/pants/jeans for girls), blouses or sweaters were to be worn (sleeveless tops, low cuts, or shell tops without a cardigan over it not permitted), standard school shoes like flats, penny loafers, and mary janes were expected (no causal sneakers except during physical education). since i realized all of this, it inspired me to make a new little 'school outfit' inspo pic! i tried to make sure she didn't look too 'Soc-ish'. i also tried to pick things that were already out of fashion by a couple of years, bc she'd have probably gotten her stuff as hand-me-downs from another girl in the neighborhood, or maybe her parents took her shopping at charity thrift stores/rummage sales/etc. i wanted things that looked like they could've been handmade by mrs.curtis (the skirts mostly), and curtis!sister could share them with mrs.curtis and/or got stuff of mrs.curtis's after she passed as well.
masterlist
Curtis!Sister w/ a Photography Hobby
ft. her fav models! (her family and friends!)
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
masterlist
hii again could u do how the gang reacts to Ponyboy having a soc girlfriend but she doesn’t act or dress like regular socs like she’s friends with Angela Shepard (and also some socs but that doesn’t matter) and dresses in dark colored clothing and she loves low rise jeans(kind of like the people from thirteen) and it’s their first time meeting her
of course! ☺️
Hii I love your work . I was wondering if u could do curtis reader where reader and a soc kid r secretly in a relationship and none of the greasers know and reader thinks she may be pregnant so she takes a test (u can choose wether it’s positive or not) and reader throws it out in the trash can where anyone can find it and either ponyboy or two bit finds it and everyone is at the Curtis house and they quickly realize it’s readers since she is the only one who can get pregnant and so wether it’s positive or not, Darry and the gang sit u down and asks u questions like “who have u been with” etc and then the truth comes out that you’re dating a soc (sorry if it’s too long)
hiya!! thank you! 😊 and omg, yeah! that's a great idea! :) thank you for requesting! i will get right on it tomorrow, and hopefully have it posted in the next few days! 💞
The Gang's Scents would be a mix of...
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
Darry:
Sodapop:
Ponyboy:
Johnny:
Dallas:
Two-Bit:
Steve:
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
masterlist
Birthday Boy
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: i'm sorry, y'all. that's all i really gotta say about this one. apologies. :.(
pairings: none.
tw: angst. car wreck. police. death. funerals.
description: what's the big deal about birthdays anyway? darry doesn't even want to think about his, and he doesn't want a huge fuss.
word count: 3k
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
With half-opened eyes, still blurry with sleep, Darrel saw the sunlight just starting to peak in through his window shades. He groaned, covering his face with his pillow. The day he had been dreading for weeks was finally here, whether he liked it or not. His 20th birthday. There was no more avoiding it. From under his pillow, he heard his bedroom door creak open, followed by some not-so-quiet footsteps. Before he could uncover his head, his little brother, Sodapop, had tackled him in his own bed. He grabbed the pillow, tossed it off to the side, and began tickling and poking Darry in the ribs.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!", Soda hollered, grinning so big and wildly, you'd have thought he had just won the lottery.
Soda stood on the bed and started jumping up and down. No matter much brooding Darry had been doing before, he couldn't help but to crack a smile at Soda's antics.
"How does it feel to not be a teenager anymore, big brother?", Soda said between breaths, a little winded from all the jumping.
"Soda, you're gonna break the damn bed! Quit it, will ya?"
Sodapop plopped onto his back and sprawled out next to Darry.
"I don't feel any different. Today is just like any other day. It's not a big deal," the elder brother grumbled, his previous smile gradually falling from his face.
"Try tellin' that to Mom! She's already halfway through making your special birthday breakfasttttt!", Sodapop said in a singsongy voice. "You better get up soon or Dad will eat all your baconnnnn!," he continued after getting up from the bed and heading back out of Darry's bedroom.
Darry sighed deeply before forcing his body up from the mattress to start getting dressed. It's not that he didn't appreciate the fact that his family wanted to celebrate him. He was extremely thankful to have such wonderful parents and two great little brothers who loved him so much. It's just that, every year older was a painful reminder to him of falling another year behind where his peers were. They were moved out from home, going to college, making something of themselves. Then, there was Darrel. Twenty years old, still living with his parents, working part-time at a grocery store. $1.25 per hour. 20 hours a week. Mr. and Mrs.Curtis wanted to make sure he still enjoyed some time off, so they convinced him to only work part-time. At least that way, he could still have the time to mess around with his brothers, see movies with his friends, date if he wanted to. Sometimes he even went on skiing trips with some of his old football buddies. His parent's believed he didn't need to work himself to the bone. He was too young for that kind of life. He deserved to have fun like other people his age.
It was an understatement to say it was disappointing to see his friends and former classmates doing what he would give anything to be doing, but he tried his best to not let it get to him. He had been working hard to save up for school. His parents didn't want him to give up, but they weren't able to afford helping him with the costs. It made them feel awful, but he reassured them that it would be worthwhile and make it all the better to have had worked for it himself. Sometimes, even he believed himself when he would say it to them.
After about two years of saving, he now was only $160 off from having enough for a whole year at The University of Tulsa, give or take. That was tuition, room and board, meal plan, books, everything. $1,300 was all that stood between him and his dreams. If he kept working while he went, he might just be able to keep up with the costs and get all four years done. He could've already had it all, but as soon as he got a job out of high school, he started to give his father $20 every month to help with the bills. His dad refused it at first, but finally, out of need, not want, he reluctantly agreed to accepting the money.
It made Darry feel good to know he was doing something right for his family. He had also done one nice thing for himself too. He bought a used truck. A real clunker, rust bucket of a Ford. But for $250, it was a steal in his eyes, and he was proud of it. He didn't want for much and usually didn't grant himself any kind of rewards, but the truck was the first and only exception. Now with his truck, he also required some money for gas here and there. After all was said and done, $1,139.61 sat in his savings account, just waiting for its time to shine. He was hoping once summer was here, he'd have enough money saved to apply and attend the fall semester at TU.
After getting dressed, he left his bedroom and headed to the kitchen. He was met by his mother standing at the stove, slaving away as per usual. She turned to greet him, wiping her hands on her apron and reaching up to pinch his cheeks.
"There's my darling birthday boy! Finally gracing us with his presence!" She stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on his cheek.
Darry's face burned while he scratched the back of his neck shyly.
"Mornin', Mama. Hey, I thought I asked ya to not go crazy with the birthday stuff this year...," he said hesitantly. He saw the colorful streamers strung up above the table. A few balloons littered the floor, here and there.
"And you thought I'd listen?", Mrs.Curtis asked while turning her attention back to the eggs sizzling on the stovetop. "It's not everyday my first baby turns twenty years old!", she said matter-of-factly.
He knew better than to argue with her.
"I reckon you're right," he replied, giving her a smile. "Thanks, Mom."
He walked into the dining room where his father was sitting at the head of the table, reading the morning paper. Sodapop and Ponyboy had already taken their seats as well.
"Happy Birthday, Darry!", Ponyboy cheered.
His voice sounded upbeat, but his heavy head was propped up by his elbow on the table, his eyes struggling to stay open. Darry chuckled at him. Pony never had been a morning person.
"Thank ya, Pone," Darry said while ruffling the younger boy's hair.
Darry took a seat on the opposite side of the table from his brothers. Mr.Curtis laid the paper down and grasped his eldest by the shoulder.
"Happy Birthday, Son! You don't look a day over 35!", he jested and then erupted with laughter.
"Thanks, Dad," Darry responded, while rolling his eyes. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Mrs.Curtis brought the eggs to the table, took her seat, and then everyone dug into the large feast. After breakfast, Soda and Pony departed for the day.
"I'm going to Sandy's for a little while after school!", Sodapop declared and then dashed out of the house after Ponyboy.
"Be back in time supper!", Mrs.Curtis responded as she waved them off.
Before Darrel Sr. left for work, he gave Darry a bear hug, picking him up off the ground and swinging him around.
"He's a chip off the ol' block, ain't he, Hun? Just like his pops! I'm proud of ya, Darry! You've become a fine young man!"
"Means a lot, Dad," Darry told him, after his father put him back on the ground.
Mr.Curtis kissed his wife and then was on his way. Darry had some time to kill before his shift at the store, so he helped Mrs.Curtis clean up from breakfast. Afterwards, he grabbed his work smock and said his goodbyes to his mother while walking out the door.
"Chili and cornbread tonight! Your favorite! We'll do presents after! And I told Ponyboy to stop by the bakery across town for that special frosting you love!", she shouted to him from the kitchen.
"Sounds great, Mom. I'll see ya after work!", Darry called back to her.
__________________________________________________
His shift went fine. Lots of bagging groceries, stocking shelves, and helping old ladies get their items to their cars. He clocked out around 5:30pm, hopped in his truck, and made the drive home. He was surprised to see his father hadn't returned from work yet. When he got inside, Sodapop was watching TV, and Ponyboy was working on homework at the dinner table. Darry could smell the chili cooking on the stove as soon as he entered the house.
"Where's Mom and Dad?", he questioned.
Soda answered without even looking away from the screen. "Ponyboy forgot the frosting, so when Dad got home from work, he took her to go get it."
Darry glanced into the kitchen and saw two layers of chocolate cake cooling on a wire rack on the counter.
"I wish I woulda known. I woulda told her not to bother with it," Darry said before taking a seat in his father's armchair.
Ponyboy bit his lip as he looked up from his notebook with guilt.
"I'm sorry, Darry...," he mumbled.
"You'd forget your own head if it wasn't attached to your shoulders," Darry quipped. "But, don't sweat it, Pony. She still woulda gone anyway, even if I told her I didn't want it."
The brothers sat around and waited for their parents to get back home. The clocked ticked. And ticked. And ticked. An hour went by, then another. The TV was shut off and homework long completed. Anxiety was running high in the house, but no one spoke a word. Soda twiddled his thumbs and looked at the carpet. Ponyboy sat in the floor flicking a penny to spin it on the surface of the coffee table. It whirled in blur of copper, and he watched closely, counting the seconds until it collapsed with each spin. Darrel sat back into his father's chair, staring right at the front door, silently begging it to open and for his mother and father to cross the threshold once more.
Blue and red flashing lights flooded the room through the large window. Darry didn't move an inch, still staring down the door. Maybe if he didn't move, he could still believe that this wasn't happening. Soda and Pony were on their knees atop the couch cushions, facing the window and watching while two of Tulsa's finest made their way through the fence and up onto the porch. They removed their hats, and one of them knocked on the door. Three strong, confident knocks. Sodapop and Ponyboy's heads snapped back to look at Darry. He redirected his attention to his brothers, only 16 and 13. Their eyes already filling with tears. They were just kids. He had never before taken notice to how young they really looked. Practically babies. His brows pinched together, his face settling into a stony, icy glare. He stood, walked to the door, and opened it for the police officers.
"Are you Darrel Shaynne Curtis Jr.?", the taller officer asked.
"Yes, sir," Darry stated.
He knew what was coming. He decided right then and there that he was not going to break. He had to be strong. He had to be tough. He had to be everything his brothers needed and more. The officer's words were coming in waves to Darry's ears. He wasn't catching everything, but the important information was heard.
"I'm so sorry to tell you this, son......Car crash......train tracks......no survivors......"
"Don't call me, son," Darry thought to himself.
"...Did you hear me, son?", the officer broke through Darry's daze.
"Huh?", Darry whispered, looking back up into the officer's eyes.
It was impossible to ignore the sobs coming from his younger brothers as he tried listening to the cop speak. Ponyboy hid his face in Sodapop's chest.
"I said, I'm gonna need you to come with me to the funeral home to identify the bodies." That sentence left his mouth like it was the most common occurrence in the world.
Darry swallowed the gag that tried to make it out of his throat at the mention of bodies. Dead bodies. His Mom and Dad, just dead bodies in a cooler now.
"Of course. Yes. I can do that...," Darry trailed off.
He glanced down at Soda and Pony on the couch.
"I'll be back as soon as I can...," he reassured them.
Darry shuffled to towards the drive's side door of his truck, running purely on muscle memory. He followed the deputy's car to the funeral home. Even as he gazed blankly upon the still figures of what was once his beautiful, golden mother and easygoing, fun-loving father, not a single tear had been shed from his eyes. He spent what felt like many hours there speaking with the police and the man who ran the funeral home. The funeral director was more sympathetic than the policemen had been. He spoke with Darry about what needed to be done and the cost of everything. Even with the funeral director helping cut costs as much as possible, it was still too much. He told Darry that he could go home and think it about for a day or so before having to make any decisions.
Darry didn't even remember drive home. One minute he was in the parking lot of the funeral home, the next minute, he was pulling up outside of his house again. The sun was rising on a new day by this time. A bag of what personal items from his parents could be salvaged was sitting in the seat next to him, as well as the papers from the funeral home. He grabbed it all and carried it inside with him. The house was still and quiet. A stark comparison to how it had been just 24 hours ago. He walked right through the living room, dropped the bag and papers on the dining table, and continued through to the kitchen. He pulled the chili off the eye of the stove. It had stayed on the heat all night; it's a wonder it didn't burn the house down. The chili was charred, the spoon permanently stuck to the bottom of the pot. What caught his attention now were the cake layers that remained unfrosted. Sitting on that wire rack, just where his mother had left them. Before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed the rack and threw it, his hands shaking with anger. It made a dull clank when it collided with the wall and another when it hit the ground. The cakes fell to pieces, scattering chocolate crumbs all over the whole kitchen.
Darry shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth, to steady himself. He stepped forward and opened Ponyboy and Sodapop's bedroom door to check on them, only to find they weren't there. He wondered for a second where they may be before the realization hit him. He walked down the hall to his parent's bedroom. After pushing open the door, the sight before him only deepened his heartbreak. Soda and Pony asleep in their parent's bed. Ponyboy's arms wrapped tightly around a cardigan belonging to Mrs.Curtis. Soda's arms wrapped tightly around Ponyboy. Their cheeks still heavily tear stained. He closed the door as quietly as he could.
Trudging back to the dining room table, he sat down. He slid Ponyboy's notebook over to himself and opened it up. He looked over the paperwork from the funeral home and started reviewing the prices and writing things down. The cost of the funeral services: $1,400. Plots: $300. Headstone: $125. Obituaries: $10. If he chose to forgo the visitation and services, opting instead for direct burial, he'd save $500. Selecting plots farther away, near the back of the cemetery, at the bottom of a sloped hill could save another $50. He could skip the obituaries altogether, saving $10 more. His parents deserved the best, he knew they did, but it just was not possible. It felt like he was disrespecting them by trying to cut corners, but this was the only way anything at all could even be done for them. He crunched the numbers, and then crunched them again, taking away things that didn't seem to be completely necessary right now. After about an hour or so, his decisions had been made, as difficult as they may have been. It would still use every penny he had saved over the last two years. No more hope of school. That was a fairytale now, and he didn't have time to focus on anything but the realities laid out before him.
Darry rubbed his face roughly with his hands, standing from his spot to stretched his legs. He walked to the porch and grabbed the newspaper. Once returned inside, he sat in his armchair and unfolded it. He wasn't the least bit shocked by the front page of The Tulsa World. Even so, he had to admit, it still stung just the same. Bold lettering spelled out the major headline of the day: 'TRAIN-AUTO COLLISION CLAIMS THE LIVES OF TWO TULSA NATIVES'. They were quick with it, he had to give them that. He flipped to the Classifieds and started looking at new potential jobs. There was no doubt that he would need to find another one to keep up with the bills. He felt a little bit of shame for being thankful this had happened at the beginning of the month, because that meant all the bills had recently been paid. It gave him that little bit more of extra time to find a higher-paying, full-time job.
He was hoping once summer was here, he'd have enough money saved to get his parents a headstone...
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: "omg, you wrote another angsty story?? who would've guessed it?? don't you get tired of it??" no, actually, i do not lol!
masterlist
chocolate cake for breakfast there, curtisgang4life?
The Weight of the World
(curtis!sister)
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: hello! it's been a minute! i've been feeling kinda sad and in the mood for some more angsty stuff, so here it is. curtis!sister w/ an ed, so if this may trigger you, please skip! this is a very serious topic that i do have personal experience with, so i hope i handled it well. i am not trying to glorify or romanticize it in anyway. if you are struggling with anything like this, please reach out and ask for help! and as always, my inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to!
pairings: none.
tw: disordered eating. fighting/arguing. angst. a few cuss words. sorta mean darry?
description: you really didn't plan for this at all, you swears you didn't, but losing control while trying to take control is easier than one might think.
word count: 3.5k
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
You're not sure what exactly triggered this obsession in you. You had never been worried about your weight or how much you ate before your parents passed. Everything had changed so much so quickly after that though. It all seems like a blur. Darry started working himself to the bone, attempting to keep the household afloat. Sodapop was now a high school dropout, working full-time to help Darry with the bills. There was a new tension in the air that had never been there before. The pressure on them was immense. You couldn't even imagine how hard it was.
Darrel was trying his best to keep you all on the right path, but something switched in him after Soda had to leave school. He started to be tougher on you and Ponyboy. Grades, extracurriculars, staying out of trouble. He wanted the best and only the best from both of you. He didn't just expect it, he demanded it. Perhaps, he felt like he had already failed with Sodapop, and he didn't want all the hard work and sacrifices he was making to go to waste. You and Pony both did all you could to keep him happy. Ponyboy was more defiant to the strictness, fighting back with Darry when he thought he was asking for too much from you two. You, on the other hand, had taken a much different approach. You became quiet, reserved. You were afraid of stepping out of place, of bringing any kind of attention to yourself. Flying under the radar kept you feeling safe. With Darry and Sodapop both working nonstop, and Darry focusing extra on Ponyboy with arguments on a daily basis, it was actually pretty easy to just blend in and live in the background.
You think maybe your 'little problem' started when you noticed Darry up late one night as you came out to the kitchen for a glass of water. He tried to hide it from you, tried not to worry you, but you saw what he was doing. Papers were spread all across the dining room table. He had a notebook, and he was crunching numbers. Written on the paper was how much he made, how much Soda made, how much the bills were, and how much he had left after all of that to use for food for the month. Coupons clipped and lined up neatly next to him. Circulars from various grocery stores to compare prices and sales also lying there. Darry shooed you away, back to your bedroom before returning to the table.
Once in your room, something occurred to you. It had to be hard to keep up the demand for food in this house. He not only had to feed himself, Soda, you, and Pony, but also the other four hungry, stray teenage boys who frequented your home more than their own. You had wanted to find a way to help, to do your part. A completely, at the time innocent, thought entered your head. If you were to cut down on how much you ate, maybe that would be a way to help. Just not taking as much at dinner, maybe skipping breakfast here and there. Making food last longer to stretch it out and save on costs. The boys needed more anyway. You could do fine with a little less.
It was hard to go without at first, but after a couple of weeks, you started to like how it felt to have an empty stomach. The feeling was a comfort. It was like a challenge, pushing yourself to your limit. How far could you go? How long without a meal? You looked in the mirror, and you were happy to see your arms and thighs getting slimmer. Your cheek and collar bones on display like never before. It was physical proof of the initiative you were taking. So much was beyond your control in this new reality you lived, but what food you allowed or didn't allow in your body was in your control. The number on the scale? You were the sole person who had the ability to change it. No one else could. You didn't realize how much you craved some sort of power over something, anything, until you started to focus on your eating and weight. It had become so twisted in your head, not even close to being about helping save money anymore.
Ponyboy was the first to notice. He noticed how you would make any excuse you could to miss dinner. When Darry asked why you weren't eating, you'd tell him you ate a big lunch, but Pony knew you hadn't eaten lunch, opting instead to smoke a couple of cigarettes. You'd tell your brothers about some 'study plans' you made with a friend or an 'emergency cheer practice' that you had to get to right as the cooking for dinner was done. You'd return home from wherever you went, and you'd throw the food they saved for you into the trash without even looking at what it was. Ponyboy caught you once, tossing out your plate of dinner, not a single bite taken. You told him you just weren't feeling well and didn't want your older brothers to worry. At the time, it made sense to him. You skipped breakfast almost everyday. On the days you couldn't get away with it, those were the mornings when Sodapop made you at least grab an apple before heading out the door. Pony followed behind you, watching you hand the fruit right over to Johnny Cade while you all made the walk to school.
"Hungry, Johnny? I grabbed this for ya," you'd say to him with a smile.
Ponyboy couldn't ignore how the smile didn't make it all the way up to your eyes. Your once sparkling eyes now hollow and dull. Your skin a sickly pale color. You weren't looking or acting like yourself at all. You wore baggy clothes all the time. You didn't let anyone touch you anymore, even dodging hugs from your brothers. You slept like crazy, naps often lining up perfectly with meal times. You locked yourself in your bedroom most of the day. Pretty much staying shut away from the rest of the world, except for when it was time for school or when you wanted to exercise.
You had taken a new interest in joining Pony for his runs each night while he was training for track. You never cared for running before, and honestly, he wished you didn't now. You didn't even look like you could keep yourself upright, more or less keep up with him on a run. At least if you were running with him, he could keep an eye on you. He waited a while before he said anything to your older brothers, wondering if he was wrong about the situation. No one else had said anything yet, so maybe it wasn't the issue that he thought it was.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Everything changed one afternoon while you both rounded the corner to head towards the park on one of your runs. Your vision started to go in and out as you slowed down and came to a stop. Black dots danced all around while you watched Ponyboy keep on moving. Your head was pounding. Your heart racing and skipping beats. Pony noticed you weren't beside him anymore. He looked over his shoulder at you just in time to see you collapsing on the concrete.
"(Y/N)!," he yelled while hurring over to you.
As soon as you hit the ground, it only took a second for you to come to. You tried to scramble back to your feet, hoping falsely that he hadn't seen you faint, but of course he had.
"Woah, woah, hold it right there. You need to sit down for a second, (Y/N)," Ponyboy said as he squatted down beside you. His face was filled with concern. He took note of how you were already covered in sweat despite your run having barely begun.
"I'm fine, Pony. Think I'm just a little dehydrated or somethin'. No big deal," you replied to him casually while standing to your feet. You brushed the dirt off of your sweatpants. "Come on, let's keep runnin'."
"I think it's more than just a little dehydration..." He wasn't sure how to approach this. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hand before he continued. "Did...did you eat anything today?"
His voice was small and laced with apprehension. He didn't want to make you upset or mad at him. He was also truly afraid of the answer you'd give to his question. Whether it was what he knew to be the truth or a lie you'd make up and tell him, either one was going to hurt his heart the same.
"What kinda question is that, Ponyboy?", you laughed a little as you spoke, trying your best to deflect the anxiety this moment was giving you. "Of course I did!"
You turned from him and started to walk back to the house. He was right on your tail, increasing his pace to keep up with you. He was determined to not let this go on any longer. After a few moments of silence, he piped up again.
"What did you eat? And when? I've been with you all day!" Ponyboy's frustration was clear when he spoke.
"What are you, my babysitter? Keepin' tabs on me? Watchin' me? Not cool, Pony! If you must know, I had a PB&J when you walked to see Soda at the DX," you stated.
"(Y/N)," he said sadly, "we ran outta bread this morning. Darry used the last of it for his egg sandwich..."
Shit. You weren't sure how to get out of his line of questioning now; now that he knew for sure you were lying. Luckily, you had just made it back to the house as he finished his sentence. You approached the front door and turned to be face to face with him before opening it.
"Don't. Say. A word. Ponyboy," you said to him while glaring.
Upon entering your house, you saw Soda draped over the couch watching TV, and Darry in the kitchen cooking dinner.
"Back so soon?", Sodapop questioned.
Pony opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he could.
"Yeah, Soda, I tripped and fell right when we were gettin' started, so we decided to head back."
"'Tripped'? Right. Sure...," Pony muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes. You jabbed him in the ribs with your elbow. "Ow!", he said to himself while rubbing his side.
"Oh, are you okay, (Y/N)? Didn't get hurt when ya fell, did ya?," Sodapop questioned.
"I'm fine! Don't worry!", you said to him. "I'm just gonna hop in the shower before dinner!"
You grabbed some clothes from your bedroom, and then went into the bathroom to start your shower. Ponyboy had joined Sodapop on the couch. A couple of minutes passed while they watched the cartoons on the television. Soda couldn't help but notice the way Ponyboy kept looking at him and then looking away again every few seconds.
"What's on your mind, Ponyboy?"
"I'm worried about (Y/N)."
Sodapop sat up and gave Pony his full attention now.
"Why? What's wrong with her?", Soda asked.
"I don't think she's eating."
"Huh? That's crazy, Pony! Why in the world would she do that?", Soda said. He chuckled and shook his head, unable to comprehend the absurdity of Pony's words.
"I don't know, but she didn't just trip during our run, Soda. She blacked out, dropped to the ground! Can't you see how different she looks? She's lost so much weight. I seriously can't be the only one who has seen the changes in her!"
Sodapop got real quiet while he started to reflect back on the last couple of months. His brows knit tightly together. His heart dropped. He couldn't remember the last time you had eaten dinner with them, and come to think of it, he really couldn't even think of a single time in the last few weeks he had seen you eating anything at all. How could he have missed this? Darry overheard a little bit of the conversation his brothers were having. He wiped off his hands, threw the towel over his shoulder, and walked to the living room.
"What're you talkin' 'bout, Ponyboy?", he asked.
Ponyboy looked up to his oldest brother from where he was seated on the couch.
"I know you're both busy with work, but it's clear that she's goin' through somethin'! She spends all her time alone. Avoids meals at all costs. She has every excuse under the sun to not be at the dinner table with us each night. I even saw her throwin' away dinner you saved for her one night! Just right into the trash!" Ponyboy's words tumbled out erratically.
"And you didn't say anything until now? How long have you been seein' this and keepin' it to yourself, huh?", Darry said.
"Lay off him, okay? Me and you have been too caught up in other stuff to notice that our baby sister was starvin' herself! At least Pony noticed at all!", Soda said with a slight quiver in his voice.
Darry paused for a moment to collect his thoughts.
"Well, this ends tonight. She's eatin' whether she wants to or not!"
"Darry, I-I don't think forcing her is the best way to get her to eat...," Ponyboy replied to him. "Might make it worse..."
"I don't really care what you think about it, Ponyboy. She's gotta eat!", Darry's voice was starting to get louder.
You walked out of the bathroom to your brothers falling quiet as soon as they heard the door open. They stared at you, and it made you feel very uncomfortable. You squirmed under their gaze before promptly turning around to start heading for the hallway. Soda rose from the couch and finally spoke up in a bid to stop you.
"Hey, baby, feel better after your shower?" His voice sounded suspiciously chipper, definitely not matching his expression. He looked upset. You faced him once more to give an answer.
"Yeah, much better, Sodie. I think I'm just gonna go lay down for a little while."
Your brothers all exchanged looks with one another. You had a feeling that Pony might have been talking to them about you, but you pushed that idea out of your head. Surely they wouldn't believe him, anyway. They hadn't detected any patterns or problems thus far, too wrapped up in their own issues and responsibilities. Darry walked by you to get back in the kitchen and finish cooking. Ponyboy followed him. The pair understood without any words exchanged that Soda's sweet talking was the best bet they had to get you to the table, so they let him take the lead. Sodapop knew if you made it to your bedroom, you wouldn't be coming out again all night.
"Dinner's gonna be ready in just a minute, darlin'. Why don't you come over here, and I'll braid your hair while we wait, huh? Whatdya say? You always used to love it when I played with your hair," Soda spoke to you carefully, like he was dealing with a jumpy horse that he was afraid of spooking.
"Uhhhh, I don't know. I'm really sleepy...," you replied, taking another few steps father away from him. You were getting antsy now, unsure of what he was really trying to do here.
He closed the distance between you both with only a few strides. He lightly cupped your shoulders, steering you gently. You flinched away from his touch. He acted like he didn't notice. He also tried hard to ignore how small and bony your shoulders felt under his hands, even through the several layers of clothing you had dawned after showering. It was so clear to him now, the damage you had inflicted on your beautiful body. He hated himself for being so oblivious before. He continued the conversation while guiding you into one of the dining room chairs.
"It'll just take a minute, (Y/N), and then we'll eat dinner." He had such a sweet smile on his face, you couldn't bring yourself to say no. No one could deny the charm he possessed when he really tried to use it.
"Okay, Soda...," You finally gave in.
Sodapop looked so happy that he had won. He ran to the bathroom, grabbed your hairbrush and two hair ties, and took his place behind your chair. Once he started brushing your hair, he was shocked to see how thin it had gotten. He bit his bottom lip to keep himself from breaking completely while a couple strands of your hair came out into his hands. He hummed a little tune to you while doing his work.
The thought of having to sit at the table and eat with your brothers made you panicked. You weren't sure how you could get away without eating at least a little bit. Maybe you could tell them you felt sick? No, you had used that phrase a lot lately, probably too much. They'd know it was a lie. Well, maybe you could just eat a tiny, tiny bit and run extra tomorrow to make up for it. That's what you decided you'd do. It'll probably be a good thing to have dinner with them tonight, that might keep suspicion away and keep them off your back for a while. You picked at your nails nervously as you sat there with Soda's hands in your hair. Soda completed your braids as Ponyboy was setting the table for dinner. Darry carried out two pots, a large bowl, and a platter. He sat them down in the middle of the table. Spaghetti with meat sauce, salad, and garlic bread. The smell made you nauseous.
"I made spaghetti, (Y/N)! Your favorite! Eat up!", Darry insisted.
Your brothers watched closely while you dished the food onto your plate. Barely enough pasta for a child, two fork fulls of salad it seemed, and no bread.
"That's all you're gonna get?", Sodapop queried. He tilted his head with a sorrowful curiosity.
"I'm just not very hungry. I ate a lot for lunch," you maintained, but you couldn't meet his eyes.
Ponyboy scoffed at this. You kicked him in the shin underneath the table.
"(Y/N), you gotta eat more than that," Darry demanded.
He tried and failed at hiding the mix of anguish and disappointment flickering across his face. He stood from his chair, grabbed the plate from your hands and tripled the amount of pasta and salad on it. He also threw on two pieces of garlic bread before placing in front of you.
"There ya go, that's better!", he said while sitting back down.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you felt heat rising up your face. The thought of all that food being inside your body made you want to crawl out of your skin. This was a test. You knew it was. They were testing you to see if you'd break. You looked at your brothers, the glistening in your eyes was not lost on them, but you still mustered up your best smile anyway.
"Thanks, Dar," you whispered.
Darry, Sodapop, and Ponyboy filled their plates as well and began eating. They tried to keep the conversation light and keep you engaged while discretely observing you. You had taken maybe five bites in the last fifteen minutes. With each one you took, you felt like the walls were closing in. You had done so good for so long, and now your brothers were ruining it. Darrel was once again taking away all of your control. You pushed the food on your plate around. Filling the fork, lifting it, and then setting it down again. Mixing things together, cutting things up, trying to make it appear as though more had been eaten than what really had.
"Alright, I've had enough! This is ridiculous!", Darry's voice boomed out in the small room.
Everyone at the table jolted. You looked to him with wide eyes.
"You will clean your plate, little lady. That's final. You will not leave this table until you eat it all," he declared.
You couldn't stop the tears from flowing now.
"I can't eat all of this, Darry! It's too much!", you pleaded with him.
"I work like a dog, day in and day out! So we can live in this house! So there can be food on the table every night! And you have the nerve to refuse to eat it? To throw away perfectly good food? Ponyboy told us what you've been doin', and you better cut it out right now!", Darry snapped at you. He struck the tabletop with an open hand to punctuate his rage.
"Darry, calm down, okay?", Sodapop interjected. "Can't you see how upset she is?"
By this point, you had pushed your plate away from you, pulled your legs up into your chair, and you had your face between your knees, crying silently into them. Sodapop dragged his chair over next to yours, sat down, and laid a hand on your back, rubbing up and down. He could feel your spine poking into his hand.
"Why are you doin' this to yourself, angel?", he whispered to you.
You kept your head down and continued to sniffle. Your breathing was slowing, little by little. Darry leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and running his hands roughly through his hair. Ponyboy was unsure of what he was supposed to do, so he got up and started clearing the table.
You hesitated before cautiously lifting your gaze to meet Sodapop's eyes. Your lip wobbled.
"Can I please go to my bedroom now?", you begged him.
"Yes, baby. Yes, you can," he muttered, his words heavy with resignation.
You couldn't get out of your chair fast enough. You bolted from the table. In the deafening silence now filling the house, your brothers listened to a single sound: the distinct click of the lock on your bedroom door. Ponyboy returned to the table with his brothers and took a seat. They traded uneasy glances, doubt shadowing their features. Each of them waiting for someone else to speak first.
"If she don't eat tomorrow, I'm takin' her to the hospital," Darry told his little brothers definitively.
Words failed Ponyboy and Sodapop, but they knew the urgency of the situation might demand such an action to be taken.
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: maybe not my best work, but hey, whatever lol! it's weird, bc i felt like i was a struggling to write, but at the same time, it's a longer one? what's up with that? anyway, this one will get a part two for sure. it was getting too long, but it still needs some kind of resolution, i think.
part 2
masterlist
The Gang's 4th of July
(headcanons/blurbs-ish?)
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Darry finally gets a day off since it's a national holiday, so for once, he actually sleeps in.
When he rolls out of bed around 9am...
(that is sleeping in for Darry.)
...Sodapop is finishing up with cooking breakfast.
He made red, white, and blue pancakes for everyone.
Extra syrup for his!
Two-Bit stumbles in, already a little tipsy.
(it's a holiday, come on.)
He's bragging to everyone about buying some crazy fireworks for cheap.
Some dude at The Dingo brought them up from Mexico.
the names on the boxes are like: The Ball Buster, The Titty Twister, The Pickler Tickler, shit like that.
Leave it to Two-Bit to only choose the ones with the most obscene names.
Darry decides he's not going to bother with getting worked up about anything today.
Not even Two-Bit's sketchy fireworks.
He announces to all the guys that he's going to take them to the lake for a swimming day.
Ponyboy and Johnny pack a cooler full of pepsi, beer, hotdogs, and marshmallows.
Everyone piles into the Curtis's truck, most of them in the bed of it.
Steve is the first one to hop into the water.
He barely even waited for the truck to come to a stop.
Darry picks up Pony and tosses him in while Pony hollers in protest.
Once he comes up for air, he can't help but to chuckle at his big brother's stunt.
Johnny gets in, but he leaves his shirt on.
Dallas thinks he's too tuff for all this 'stupid shit' and just leans against the truck while lighting up a cig.
Until it gets soooooo hot that he finally gets in the water.
It's not long before he has Johnny on his shoulders, fully engaged in a chicken fight with Sodapop on top of Steve's shoulders.
Johnny and Dally win, of course.
Dallas didn't come to play.
Johnny can't swim very good, so he tries to stay towards the shallow part.
Darry helps Two-Bit tie a rope up in a tree branch, and now everyone is swinging from the rope and doing flips into the water.
When the sun starts going down, Darry and Dally work together to make a fire.
They all roast hotdogs and marshmallows.
Everyone is laughing and joking around, having the best time.
Soda almost gets sick from how many marshmallows he eats lmao.
It's one of the first times since their parents passed that Soda and Pony notice Darry's shoulders without tension in them and a genuine smile on his face.
The whole gang all have fuzzy wind dried hair, since the lake water washed all the grease out.
Two-Bit finishes off his last beer and starts digging through his bag of fireworks.
He throws poppers at Steve's feet.
"Dance, Grease Monkey! Dance!"
He's laughing in ass off at Steve jumping around like crazy, until Steve gets him in a choke hold.
Ponyboy and Soda have tears streaming down their faces from laughing so hard.
Two only lit himself on fire one time, surprisingly!
After the 5th bottle rocket explodes in the sky, police sirens can be heard heading towards the lake.
They hightail it outta there like there's not tomorrow.
it was fun and all, but not worth Pony and Soda getting thrown in the boy's home.
(It takes a minute before they notice they accidentally drove off without Ponyboy and have to turn around to get him.)
Everyone sleeps over at the Curtis house that night.
Darry is in his bedroom.
Steve & Soda take Soda and Pony's bed.
Ponyboy & Johnny sleep feet-to-head on the couch.
Dally curls up in Darry's armchair with his feet kicked up on the coffee table.
and Two-Bit passed out cold straight on the living room floor by the TV as soon as he entered the house.
They all knock out quick AF!
Like, completely dead to the world.
Ya know how when little kids play in the pool all day, everyone is like 'boy, they're gonna sleep good tonight!!' ?
Yeah, that's the gang after the lake day. For. Sure.
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note: cutesy gang stuff with no angst is nice every once in a while! :) just wanna put this out there, that i am patriotic in the 'everyone is welcome here. love is love. i hate the president' kind of way! happy 4th to all my american readers! i hope you all feel the same as i do about patriotism haha! go eat a hotdog and shoot off some fireworks!
masterlist
A Curtis Christmas: 1956
(the curtis family w/ curtis!sister)
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
Mr. and Mrs.Curtis did their best every year to make sure that Christmas was special for their children. All the spare change they acquired from July on went towards the Christmas fund. Not that any change in their household was spare. Every single penny needed to be utilized to keep things going: keep food on the table, keep the lights and water on, keep clothes on backs. Even so, they couldn't stand the thought of their kids waking up on Christmas morning wondering if they had been naughty this year, because that would be the only possible reason for Santa to not leave presents for them under the tree when other kids at school did get them, right?
Sure, they didn't have the means to be very extravagant with it, but each of their children got one good, new toy. They went without in order to secure these gifts, sometimes even skipping meals to stretch food as far as they could to save that little bit more on groceries for the week. Mr.Curtis would take all the extra shifts offered to him. His back breaking. His hands blistered and splitting open. Mrs.Curtis would run a small laundering business from out of their house near the holiday season to get just the tiniest amount of extra income, staying up into the early hours of the morning trying to get all the washing, starching, and ironing completed.
Christmas Eve activities for the children included decorating cookies for Santa, singing carols, reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas', drinking hot chocolate before bed, and then getting tucked in for the night. Afterwards, Mr. and Mrs.Curtis would meticulously fill each of the stockings to the brim with candies, fruit, and small knickknacks. Next came the big ticket items, placed front and center by the tree, waiting for the little hands that would be playing with them in just a few hours. Mr. Curtis would take a few bites of the cookies laid out by the fireplace, before pulling his missus in for a cheeky smooch under the mistletoe.
He would surprise her with a gift from himself, even when they swore this was the year they wouldn't get gifts for each other. She feigned exasperation playfully, before pulling out the gift she had secretly gotten for him as well. They beamed with pride while admiring the beauty reaped from their weeks of hard labor, before heading to bed themselves. No visions of sugar plums danced through their heads. Instead, they dreamed of the excitement that would sweep across the faces of their babies when they saw just how good "Santa" thought they had been, and it made each and every sacrifice worth it.
⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊･*❅⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊･*❅⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊･*❅⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊･*❅⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊･*❅⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊⊹˚꙳⁺⋆
The siblings woke up to...
Darry, aged eleven:
Robert the Robot
Sodapop, aged eight:
Roy Rogers Playset
Curtis!Sister, aged six:
Tiny Tears Baby Doll
Ponyboy, aged 5:
Lincoln Logs
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: this idea came to me a couple of weeks ago, and since it's exactly halfway to christmas eve today, i thought it was a good time to post it! i didn't want to wait until actual christmas time, and i maybe could've held off until christmas in july, but i'm too impatient haha! it was just so cute and such a nice change from my usual angsty stuff! :) merry halfway to christmas, i guess lol!
masterlist
The Gang as...
1965 Love Song Lyrics
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
Darry:
Sodapop:
Ponyboy:
Johnny:
Dallas:
Two-Bit:
Steve:
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
masterlist
Blood in the Water
(curtis!sister / ponyboy!twinsister)
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: another request from a while ago by @somesimpformen ! they wanted pony's fight w/ darry and him running out from the pov of curtis sister, but if she was his twin and they were "inseparable type shit" haha!
pairings: none.
tw: fighting, yelling, getting slapped. drowning. knife. blade. blood. death. language.
description: nothing can stand between you and your twin. you'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, and you're not the only one.
word count: 2.1k
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
The time was nearing 2:00am. You sat on the edge of the couch cushion, biting at your nails and bouncing your leg up and down anxiously. Your brother, Sodapop, sat on the opposite end from you, his head slumped back, his eyes heavy. Your brother, Darrel, sat in his armchair. Darry held the paper with one hand and the phone in the other. He was calling everyone he could think of in the neighborhood who might have any idea where your twin brother, Ponyboy, might be. You and Pony were closer than any other siblings anyone had ever seen. Normally, you were never apart. Ponyboy had lived 9 minutes on this Earth without you, but you have never lived a single second without him. You knew you shouldn't have left him at the drive-in, but you had gotten a headache that was killing you, and you needed to get home. He had Johnny with him, and Two-Bit had just walked up right before you left. You figured he would be fine.
Darry hung up the phone for the thousandth time, right as the door creaked opened slowly. Ponyboy slipped inside, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it. He rolled his eyes and sighed when Darry threw down the newspaper, stood up, and started right in on him.
"Where the hell have you been?! Do you know what time it is?! Well, it's two o'clock in the mornin', kiddo!", Darry hollered at him.
"Hey, Pony, where ya been?", Soda asked him.
You had sprung up as soon as Ponyboy opened the door. You worriedly looked him over for injuries, wondering what could've happened to him to make him so late and thinking maybe he had gotten jumped again.
"Where were you? Are you alright? Did something happen to you?", you asked him quickly, searching his eyes for any kind of clues. You pulled him into a hug.
"I'm fine, don't worry," he whispered in your ear.
He pulled away and walked past you towards the bathroom while answering everyone's main question of his whereabouts.
"I fell asleep in the lot."
"You what?!", Darry spit out at him.
"I was talkin' to Johnny, and I fell asleep in the lot. I didn't mean to!"
Ponyboy flicked on the bathroom light and tried to shut the door, but Darry caught it and swung it open again. He pointed at Pony while trying to make every syllable he spoke perfectly clear to his youngest brother.
"Yeah?! Hey! And I can't even call the cops, because y'all'd be thrown into group homes so fast, it would make your head spin!", Darry snapped.
Soda peaked into the bathroom from behind Darry. You stood next to him, getting a sick feeling in your stomach. You shared a knowing look with Soda. The two of you had to step in between Darry and Pony's fights often, and you both knew that this would be a bad one if things weren't calmed down soon.
"Come on Pony, let's go to bed now," Soda said, urging your brothers to drop this.
Neither Pony nor Darry paid him any mind. Pony continued his argument with your oldest brother.
"Look, I said I didn't mean to!", he stated. He pushed by Darry to storm out of the bathroom.
"'I didn't mean to!' 'I forgot!' That's ALL I EVER HEAR FROM YOU!" Darry's voice was rising higher and higher.
"Both of you, please, just STOP!", you begged.
Your eyes were starting to water. It broke you, little by little, every time you saw your brothers so angry with each other. You weren't sure how much more of this you could take or how much more the family could take before breaking into pieces.
"Come on, Darry! Just-," Soda tried to butt in, but Darry didn't let him. He got in Soda's face and stuck his finger in his chest.
"SHUT UP! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF YOU STICKIN' UP FOR HIM! YOU HEAR ME?!", Darry yelled, the veins in his neck prominent.
"DON'T YOU YELL AT HIM!"
Pony was barely able to get his last statement out. What happened next was like slow motion right before your eyes. Darrel whipped around to confront Pony. It was a split second decision, but he had completely lost control of himself as he threw his hand back. His big, calloused palm struck Ponyboy right across the cheek, forcibly pushing his head sharply to the side and completely knocking him off of his feet onto the ground. It went scarily quiet in the house. The only sound was your gasp. You clasped your hands over your mouth. If everyone's eyes had been any wider, they would've popped out of their sockets. Ponyboy looked at Darry with such betrayal on his face. It was heartbreaking. He glanced over to you with tears in his eyes.
"Ponyboy, I-I didn't mean to!", Darry stuttered.
Ponyboy didn't stick around to listen. He jumped up and booked it out of your house like he was on fire. You and your other brothers made a beeline for the front door and watched him disappear into the darkness of the night. You didn't hesitate to head right out behind him. Soda stopped you by grabbing your shoulder and pulling you back into the living room.
"We need to let him cool off, (Y/N). He'll be back," he spoke to you softly.
"No! We need to go after him, Soda!", you insisted.
Darry wore an anguished expression. What had happened between him and Pony was already torturing him as the reality of the entire situation really set in. He wasn't about to let another kid sibling out of his sight tonight.
"Don't you dare step one foot outta that door, (Y/N)...," he warned you.
You weren't scared of your biggest brother, and you didn't care what he thought. Ponyboy was the only thing on your mind. You had to get to him right now, no matter what it took. He needed you. You gave Darry a death glare. Your rage consumed you. You could feel your heart hammering away in your chest, your head still pounding to the same beat. You walked over to him and looked up into his eyes.
"OR WHAT, HUH?! Or what, Darrel?! You gonna slap me too?!", you snarled at him.
He looked at you like you had just punched him in the gut. That probably would've hurt less than hearing what you had just said to him. He turned and leaned heavily into wall, using it as a crutch to stay upright. He finally surrendered to the crushing pressure of the exhaustion and pain he had been feeling since way back when your parents had first passed away. Everything he had been holding in. With his face pressed against the cool drywall, he stayed silent, but his shoulders shook as heavy tears left trails down his cheeks. It wasn't just crying. It was the slow, quiet unraveling of the icy facade he had been trying so desperately to maintain for far too long.
"Oh, (Y/N)...," Soda muttered to you sadly.
You had no choice. You had to do whatever it took to get him off your back, so you could go find Ponyboy. No one said anything else. You took this as your opportunity to leave. You grabbed your jacket before running out the door and down the street in the direction you had seen your twin brother take just a few minutes before.
You knew Pony probably better than even he knew himself, so you knew he would be heading right back to Johnny in the lot. Your feet pounded on the pavement, and your lungs burned. You slowed down as you neared the lot, but no one was there. The fire by the old car seat was still smoldering, and you saw all the newspapers laid out where someone, Johnny no doubt, had been using them to cover up with. You thought for a minute about where they may have gone to, and then you decided that the park would be where you would check next.
You still hurried, but you didn't run this time. You crossed your arms over your chest to try and keep some of your warmth. As you approached the park, you heard a commotion. Water splashing and people shouting. You walked past a blue Mustang. No way it belonged to anyone from this side of town. You could see the water fountain now, the center piece of the park, and several Socs were stood by the edge. You felt your blood run cold when you had gotten close enough to see what was going on. They had your brother held under water as he struggled against them. They held his arms and his legs, and two of them were pushing him under by his chest and shoulders. He was yelling for Johnny and gasping for air anytime he was able to fight his way back to the surface of the water. You ran up on them and started pounding on anyone you could reach.
"LET HIM GO!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!", you screamed at them.
They didn't acknowledge you in the least bit, and your hits were doing nothing to them. You could tell they were drunk. You continued to plead for Ponyboy's life between your sobs. The Soc who you assumed was the instigator of it all fell in, or maybe was pulled into the water by Ponyboy. You weren't completely sure. All you could do was stand there and watch while your twin, the closest person to you in this world, gradually wore himself out and eventually stopped fighting back altogether. He completely went unconscious. Fully submerged and fully at the mercy of his assailants. Your throat was aching from all the screaming that was coming out from it.
You hadn't noticed Johnny at all until this very moment. He walked up beside you, and the silver glint of the switchblade in his hand caught your eye. Before you had time to process what he was doing, he had already plunged the blade into the side of the Soc who had been calling all the shots. Johnny pulled it back out just as swiftly as he had pushed it in.
"Johnny, oh my god...What the hell did you just do?", you said to him horrified.
Blood poured from the Soc's wound, staining the water red. All of his so-called 'friends' ran like cowards the minute they saw the blade, not even checking on him or attempting to get him into their car. He tripped while trying to get out of the fountain and fell to the ground. Before he passed out, he had been reaching towards the blue Mustang as it sped off.
You used all the strength you had in you to drag Ponyboy's limp body from the bloody water. You could just barely pull him over the edge. Then, he plopped back onto the concrete with a wet thump.
"P-Pony...Ponyboy...Wake-up! Please, wake-up!", you implored while kneeling beside him and shaking his shoulders. You were soaked now too, your whole body shaking and teeth chattering from the cold and the shock.
He started to gurgle, so you rolled him to his side. He coughed up a large amount of water.
"That's it, Pony. Get it all out," you said to him.
He was breathing now, but he remained unconscious. You laid him down onto his back again once he had stopped coughing.
You sat up straight and looked around. To your left was the Soc boy. He wasn't moving anymore, not even his chest rising and falling. He was sprawled out, a huge pool of blood surrounding him. He was dead. No doubt about it. Johnny had killed him. Little Johnny had killed someone. Johnny, who was scared of his own shadow is now a murderer. As you observed him, you noticed the rings on the Soc's right hand. This was the guy who had beaten Johnny to a pulp and threatened him with everything under the sun just a few months ago. He was the reason Johnny even carried that damn blade now anyway. He had scared Johnny so badly that day. Scared him so badly that he was going to do whatever he could to make sure he would never get beaten like that again, and he did just that. You knew he had only done what he had to do to protect himself and save Ponyboy's life.
Johnny was right in front of you. He sat with his back against the fountain. He was shaking too, paler than you had ever seen him. His brown eyes stared straight forward, out of focus. He didn't say a word. The Soc's blood dripped from the tip of his switch, which he still held tightly in his hands.
"Wh-What do we do now, J-Johnny?", you choked out to him.
𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡・𓂃𓈒⟡𓂃
note: i liked this one quite a bit! not sure if i should keep going or not. i think if i went too far into this, it might become too similar to 'the aftermath', which is my multi-part fic about the last few chapters of the book from curtis!sister's pov. but, maybe i could take this one until the fire at the church? idk! yall let me know if you want more parts of this one! :)
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