#i just know two drinks a different beer than the curtis parents

[fanficsloth]

Meet Me In The Pale Moonlight

****​After being rejected by Sandy, the gang tried to cheer Soda up with a night out, but little did he know that he would be running into someone he used to know really well.

Songs: Go Go Dancer- Lana Del Rey

Sodapop asked his girl Sandy to get married.

He was so excited, he was so excited to start a new life with Sandy.

Get married, start a family, live the dream he always wanted, especially with the woman he loved to the moon and back.

Sadly, Sandy said no and broke things up with him.  

"Soda, I can't. I messed up. I two-timed you with a Soc. I'm having his baby. My parents are shipping me off to my grandmother's. I'm so sorry Soda." she sighed before leaving him with his own thoughts.

She was moving to Florida, and she was pregnant with someone else's child. Her words were playing like a record on a loop in his brain on his walk of shame to his home.

That broke the swooning boy's heart in half.

He stormed into the Curtis house, slamming the door and slouched on the couch while having everyone in the gang looking at him.

"Well? What happened?" Ponyboy asked his older brother while looking up from the cards he was playing with Johnny. Soda just looked at him with his blue eyes and shook his head before letting out a sigh while rubbing his face.

"Well that doesn't sound too good. I told you she wasn't the one, she was a broad." Darry chimed up giving  his brother a small sympathy smile.

"I don't get it, I thought we were okay. I love her. I love her more than Steve loves chocolate cake he eats every damn day. I was a good man, I worked hard for that ring and she says no? What did I do wrong? Just to have her sleep with some other man." Soda cried, leaving wet marks down his perfect skin not caring that they see him cry.

"Man forget about these broads, Soda you can get any woman you want. But you always go for these flakes of women. They're nothing but trouble. You're still young, you'll find your woman soon. She'll be madly in love with you as you are with her. " his older brother added.

"Speaking of trouble, since our man here is single again, and we should cheer him up we should go to a Go-Go. One in particular. Someone big is going to be preforming tonight." Dally spoke while lighting up a cancer stick.

"Man, I ain't going to no Go-go, did you forget that I just got dumped, and my heart stabbed by a knife a thousand times?" Soda scrunched his face to even thinking about laying eyes on someone when the love of his life just stepped on his heart and spit on it.

"Come on Soda, it'll be fun. We'll all go. It beats going to the ratty movies we've seen five times a week." Steve nodded his head.

"Plus maybe we'll see some Betty's tonight, with some big knockers and stacked up" Dally held his hands out motioning to his chest to what he fantasized the women's chest to look like, making the boys laugh but only receiving an eye roll from Soda.

"Fine, but it's not going to fix anything." Soda rolled his eyes before following the boys out saying goodbye to Pony and Johnny.

The billboard showed everyone's name who was preforming, and the large lettering shinned Firecracker.

"We picked the right night to come here, that Firecracker chick is  biggest dancer that came from here. From our hometown how crazy is that?" Dally yelled over the loud music that was blasting.

The women came out all looked the same, same moves, similar clothing  but that didn't stop all the boys throwing their money on the dance floor with their beer in their hands.

Which bored Soda. He didn't know why he even came, he just wanted to be alone and distract himself with work, not a club where all the women are the same.

"I'm going to get something to drink. I'll be back." Soda told Steve before heading to the bar.

"Can I have a Pepsi-Cola please." he spoke to the bartender while slicking his hair back, "I'll have the same Jerry." a familiar happy voice spoke next to him.

He looked to his right and saw a woman standing there with long dark hair, with the perfect side profile.

"Hey Soda." her soft voice let out before turning to him, her green eyes were dark but lit up by the flashing lights from the club.

"(Y/N). I haven't seen you in ages. How've ya been (Y/NN) ?" Soda asked tongue tied.  

He hasn't seen his childhood friend for ages, you heard once her father died she split leaving her cruel mother behind. Not telling anyone anything. She just picked up and left.

He never thought in a million years he'd see her face ever again.

"I've been good. Wouldn't expect a gentleman like you being in a joint like this." her red lips twitched up into a smile while she laughed, it sounded like music to ears.

"Long story. Dally brought me here. Everyone's here tonight except Ponyboy. Well obviously, he's still a young buck", he explained to to her, she nodded before someone came over and whispered in her ear while she nodded her head pushing her dark hair exposing her perfect porcelain skin.

"Well nice seeing you Soda. I'll be home for a while, maybe we'll catch up soon? Enjoy the shows these women really work hard." her red lips gave him a smile and pat him on the shoulder while grabbing her Pepsi before following the man who came up to her.

Soda ran his hand over his face watching her leave his sight.  

Just remembering she was just this young innocent girl running around without a care in the world. Cared about everyone, was always there for him when he needed her.  

Now she's all grown up and beautiful.

He snuck his way back to the gang.

"You came just in time, Firecracker is coming out next. Look at that get up." Dally pointed to the stage with a cancer stick in his fingers.

Soda looked up at the stage with the blue velvet with gold ropes hung from the stage. He's never seen anything like this before, it had elegance not like these other broads used. He's always seen terrible shows. But nothing like this.

The music started playing, all the men cheered, they were all on the edge of their seat waiting for this mysterious woman to come out.

Then a leg with black fishnets, with black high heels  appeared from the slit from the curtain, then a hand with black gloves with fancy rings on her slender fingers.

"This is gonna get wild!" Steve cheered while jumping out of his seat, punching Two-Bit in the shoulder just in time when the curtain lifted showing the figure of a goddess.

All the men whistled already throwing money, jewelry and some flowers on the stage.

The gang just stood there in awe, as were the other men.

The (Y/H/C) with red feathers in some strands, the corset one piece was red and black with a black boa  just topping it all off.

Then the voice started singing and she was moving in such a way that has never been done or seen by the gang.

She goes to the pole before moving seductively down, "I can't wait till she turns around, she's gonna be stacked up I just know it." Dally smiled while nudging his head at the guys.

Soda just rolled his blue eyes before watching the woman preform, with her voice sounding like butter to him.

She was a knock out, perfect body, voice, can dance not like these other dancers who just lazily dance and all look the same. And he hasn't even seen her face yet, and he was already buzzing about this woman.

"They call me Firecracker,  'Cause ain't nobody faster. I'm your go-go dancer. Midnight answer, jukebox sweetheart, queen of the night."

And just like that all the gangs jaws were on the floor.

As the woman spun around, whipping her (Y/H/C) hair around showing her face, her (Y/E/C) eyes shinned like they all just remembered.

But now she was this whole different person.

"Is that-" Two-Bit , "(Y/N)" Darry nodded his head before turning around not wanting to see the girl he knew when she was a young girl.

"Holy shit." Dally muttered.

Soda was just bug-eyed the whole time.

Watching her move her mature body, walking up to the men, sitting on their laps, taking their hats and downing their half empty glasses of hard liquor while they placed money on her garter belt.

He was in shock.

"When the hell did this happen?  Wasn't she just 15?" Darry spoke while his back was turned to the men.

She owned the stage, she walked in front of the stage where the gang was, she winked and smiled at them but couldn't help but let out a giggle when she saw Darry turned around which made all the men cheer but left them shocked some more.

They all looked how she would expect.

Mostly Sodapop he was always dreamy to her.

"She looks like she's having fun though." Soda laughed while watching all their reactions after it finally settled into him that she made a name for herself for the most part.

She crawled up on her knees to Soda while stealing his Pepsi, winking at him and lifting up the drink to cheers.

She finished her song before bowing and blowing kisses at all the men.

"Thank you all for this amazing turn up in my hometown. I'm so glad to be back." she scrunched up her button nose with a smile.

Her (Y/E/C) eyes lit up the whole room.

All eyes were on her while hers were locked on Sodapop's blue eyes.

#sodapop #sodapop curtis #sodapop x reader #sodapop imagine #the outsiders imagine

[starforsharon]

Sexy Little Me

This is how Hollywood turns a pretty Texas girl into Sharon Tate, the star.

By John Bowers for "The Saturday Evening Post"

1. Two of Sharon Tate's three pictures have been produced in Europe. Although Texas-born, Sharon spent her adolescence abroad, and much prefers London to Hollywood.

2. Sharon will be shown off to American audiences for the first time in DON’T MAKE WAVES. On the set, she reacts prettily to a compliment from co-star Tony Curtis.

3. At 6 months Sharon won Dallas’ “Miss Tiny Tot” award.

4. Portraying a Las Vegas showgirl who becomes a superstar in VALLEY OF THE DOLLS, Sharon had to wear a 10-pound jeweled headdress which “gave her a headache.”

5. This picture of Sharon and her father, Maj. Paul Tate, at a 1965 Fort MacArthur party is from a large “family events” scrapbook that Sharon dutifully keeps.

6. Relaxing on the set of YOUR TEETH IN MY NECK, Sharon listens attentively as the Polish-born Polanski explains how she can improve her performance in the next scene.

May 6, 1967 – Sharon Tate had finished her last scenes for The Vampire Killers (later to be called Your Teeth in My Neck), and had no film work for the moment. At 95 Eaton Mews West, London, she moved about in the late afternoon looking for something to do. She sat Buddah-style on the living room floor and put on fake eyelashes, one eyelash at a time. She worried that a sunlamp treatment, taken a few hours before, was going to make red cracks in her face. “Doesn’t it seem to be getting all red on the cheeks? Look close now.”

She wore a gray sweat suit and furry boots, having been to her daily gym class that afternoon. She didn’t like the gym class, but Roman Polanski, her director, had told her she must go. She frowned into a hand mirror, thinking she saw a red streak. She started to bite a fingernail, but stopped. Roman had forbidden any more fingernail biting; she had a tendency to bite them down to the nub. She went to the refrigerator, and amidst Wyborowa vodka and Carlsberg beer, brought out the makings for a salami sandwich. She would not drink a beer because it might bloat her, and Roman was taking her out for dinner.

There was no place in the apartment for her to settle back and relax now. Everything inside had a transient look, as if the tenants would only be there a short season. A complicated stereo set sat on crates; Bach on top of a stack of records, Cannonball Adderly on the bottom. There were no pictures, no pets, no cozy heat. Upstairs on the wall was a framed citation stating that Knife In The Water under the direction of Roman Polanski had been nominated for an Academy Award. As Sharon reached for a folder of still photographs from The Vampire Killers to show a male visitor, she stuck up her bottom in a way she has; as she went through the photos, she pooched out her bosom. But she did it by reflex. Her thoughts were totally on her director, who was not there. She had been in three unreleased films – 13, Don’t Make Waves and The Vampire Killers, all with different directors.

If she caught the public’s fancy in any of these pictures, she would become a movie star. And she was pleased with her work in The Vampire Killers. She was in a nude bathtub scene in it, and in a brief sequence in which she got spanked.

The phone rang; it was a strange female voice with a French accent. “Is Roman there?”

“No, I’m sorry he isn’t,” Sharon said, in her accent of the moment, which was English. “Who shall I say is calling, please?”

“Oh – I just wondered if he were in. Tell him Barbara. Thank you very much..”

The dull London afternoon turned dark, and still no Polanski. He could be cutting The Vampire Killers, or he could be tied up in London traffic or he could be sitting in a café. She took off her furry boots and put her feet into his house slippers, which rested at odd angels by a mammoth bed that cost over $600. The slippers were far too big for her. She wondered if tonight she would be thrown with people who would overwhelm her with their wit, their awesome knowledge, their self-confidence. When she was out in public with Roman, she never felt adequate enough to open her mouth. She could only talk to him alone. Her problem was that she had always been beautiful, and people were forever losing themselves in fantasy over her – electing her a beauty queen, imagining her as a wife, dreaming of a caress. Most people had fantasies. But a few people, like Polanski, took charge.

At the age of six months Sharon Tate was elected Miss Tiny Tot of Dallas, Tex. Her mother had sent in photos of the beautiful baby to contest officials. Sharon’s father was (and is) in the Regular Army, and was then stationed in Dallas. (Both her parents are natives of Houston.) As Sharon grew up, the family moved around in Army style, her father frequently absent from home. She remembers that when her father would return from an overseas tour, and she had reached a nubile age, her mother’s first command would be, “Now you, Sharon Marie, button up that night gown when you come out of your bedroom. Daddy’s home.” Her father was very strict with her as she budded through adolescence, turning thumbs down on potential boyfriends and making her stay in nights. He was very strong and knew how to take charge.

But most people continued to do things for Sharon without her lifting a finger. At 16 she was elected Miss Richland, Washington, and a short time later named Miss Autorama. At the age of 17 she was in Verona, Italy, where her father was stationed, and the prizes mounted. At Vicenza American High she was a cheerleader and baton twirler, and was chosen Homecoming Queen and Queen of the Senior Prom. The Vicenza yearbook for 1961 shows her as a very pretty, large-eyed girl, with hair somewhat darker and hips a little broader than now. She daydreamed at this time about becoming a psychiatrist and a ballerina, and had little to do with her classmates. Yet if any far-out stunts or fads were proposed, this terribly quiet girl was ready to lead the way. “If miniskirts had come in then, ” she says, “I’d have worn the shortest one.”

Today the fad among young girls in cosmopolitan circles is to use the old Anglo-Saxon words in everyday conversation, and Sharon Tate leads the way. But back in Italy at 17, she was just starting her worldly knowledge. She watched the on-location shooting of Barabbas, a film about ancient Rome, and the family scrapbook now includes still pictures of Jack Palance and Anthony Quinn in the movie costumers they wore in Italy. As she walked in Venice one day, she was spotted by the choreographer for the Pat Boone Show, which was being filmed in Italy. She next appeared very briefly in one of Boone’s TV shows, and his glossy smiling face now rests in the album with a fond inscription for Sharon.

When the Tate family moved from Italy to Southern California, Sharon decided it was time to live on her own. She was 18, and she paid a visit to Harold Gefsky, then agent for Richard Beymer, a young actor she met in Rome. “She was so young and beautiful,” Gefsky, a softly-spoken man, said in his Sunset Boulevard office, “that I didn’t know what to do with her. I think the first thing I did was take her to a puppet show.”

He also got her work because her father, in Calvinistic style, had only given her a few dollars to sink or swim. One of her first jobs was dressing up in an Irish costume and handing out Kelly-Kalani wine in Los Angeles restaurants at $25 a day. She also appeared in TV commercials for Chevy cars and Santa Fe cigars. People who knew her during this period agree on one thing. She was the most beautiful girl in the world. “Everywhere I took her she caused a sensation,” Gefsky said. “I would take her into a restaurant and the owner would pay for her meal. Photographers kept stopping her on the street. I’ve lived in Hollywood since the mid-Forties, but I’ve never seen anything like it before or since.”

But at this point no one, except perhaps Sharon, knew if she wanted to be an actress. Then one day Gefsky took her by to meet his friend Herbert Browar, who was connected with TV’s Petticoat Junction. He thought possibly Browar could fix her up with a minor role, something to tide her over. Browar took one look at her and rushed her in to see Martin Ransohoff, head of Filmways, Inc.

Ransohoff has a strand of hair combed over his bald dome. He wears loose sweaters, torn windbreakers and breeches that are baggy in the seat. He first started producing TV commercials in New York when food particles were glued onto Brand X’s plate to show the differences in detergents. He branched out into TV programs with such commercial winners as Mr. Ed, The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction. He then tackled movies on the order of The Americanization of Emily and The Loved One, which got mixed reviews but generally made money. He founded the company in 1952 on $200, and today it operates on a budget of over $35 million. He will talk about Oswald Spengler or H. L. Mencken and then croon into his ever-present phone, “Helloooo, Bertie, baby. Where’s the action, kid?” He chews gum till his head rings, smokes two packs a day and sends everyone to the wall with his adrenaline. He can be gratuitously cruel in speaking of others – “She’s got a lunch pail for a mouth,” he said of an aging actress, “and if we take out insurance on her, it’ll have to be that she’ll die.” Then he can take his twin sons to a football game, clean up a dog’s mess in his Bel Air living room, and talk to anyone in the world who has guts enough to call him. A rich man’s son, he sold pots and pans from door to door while going to Colgate and claims the experience taught him what the public will or will not buy. He had little interest in films before he became involved in them, and his favorite actress in the old days was Deanna Durbin – who, coincidentally, was also Polanski’s favorite. Both vividly remember her pedaling a bicycle down a shady street and singing through a dimpled smile. Not everyone has had pleasant dealings with Ransohoff in Hollywood, but all agree he is a super salesman.

When he first saw Sharon Tate, he squinted his right eye and did something that was very impulsive, even for him. “Draw up a contract,” he shouted. “Get her mother. Get my lawyer. This is the girl I want!”

He had not seen a screen test, not even a still photograph. She had hardly opened her mouth. But Marty Ransohoff, like the rest of us, has his fantasies – and Sharon Tate walked into one of his fondest ones. “I have this dream,” Ransohoff said, “where I’ll discover a beautiful girl who’s a nobody and turn her into a star that everybody wants. I’ll do it like L. B. Mayer used to, only better. But once she’s successful, then I’ll loose interest. That’s how my dream goes. I don’t give two cents now for Tuesday Weld or Ann-Margret..”

“I think he’s just trying to pull one over on the public,” Gefsky said.

Sharon signed a seven-year contract, and Ransohoff took charge. Gefsky, a nice man, bowed out. At first she lived in complete fear of Ransohoff, and did as she was told. “She wouldn’t even eat a hamburger if he told her not to,” a friend from that period said. If Ransohoff said she was to appear on The Beverly Hillbillies disguised in a black wig, she appeared. If he told her to go on a moments notice to Big Sur, New York, London, she went. Off and on she studied acting.

Jeff Corey, one acting coach, said, “An incredibly beautiful girl, but a fragmented personality. I tried to get reactions out of her, though. Once I even gave her a stick, and said, ‘Hit me, do something, show emotion’ ..If you can’t tap who you are, you can never act.”

Charles Conrad, another acting teacher, said, “Such a beautiful girl, you would have thought she would have all the confidence in the world. But she had none.” Among her friends, however, she began to refer to herself as “sexy little me.”

Ransohoff tried to place Sharon in The Cincinnati Kid – his own movie – but failed when the director demanded Tuesday Weld. He packed her off to New York to study under the personal direction of Lee Strasberg at the Actors Studio. “She was only with me a few weeks,” Strasberg said, “but I remember her. She was a beautiful girl.” In New York Sharon had a romance with a young French star, who offered her relief from her Texas style, Puritan upbringing. The actor was tall, dark and very nice. When they broke up, the actor bungled a suicide attempt.

Sharon continued to fear Ransohoff. Once, while driving at a high speed near Big Sur, she turned her car over four and a half times, but somehow managed to crawl out with only minor injuries. Her first thought was that Marty would be mad. The first picture he finally placed her in was his French made 13, in which she plays a chillingly beautiful, expressionless girl who goes about putting the hex on people. Completed many months ago, ’13’ still rests in the can waiting for a 1967 release date. Ransohoff flew Sharon back to Hollywood for her second film, Don’t Make Waves, in which she plays a beautiful, deadpan skydiver. Sharon’s first two directors were older men. Britishers – very polite, very nice and understanding with a novice actress.

And then Ransohoff began dickering with Roman Polanski, the Polish director living in London, to make a picture. Polanski, a tiny, baby-faced man whose explosive manner and Beatle-like appearance belie his much-admired skill as a maker of art films, wanted to do something with Ransohoff called The Vampire Killers, a spoof of horror movies. He wanted to play in it himself, and, as in all his movies, he wanted a beautiful girl in a supporting role.

“How about Sharon Tate?” Ransohoff said. “I was thinking more in terms of Jill St. John,” Polanski said.

At Ransohoff’s instigation, Sharon and Polanski had dinner together. He looked at her from time to time, but said nothing. On a second dinner date he was painfully silent once more. Real weirdo, she thought. What’s he waiting on? She found out shortly. Walking in London’s Eaton Square, he suddenly put a bear hug on her and they fell to the ground, Polanski on the bottom. Sharon clouted him and stormed off. “That’s the craziest nut I ever saw,” she said. “I’ll never work for him.”

But Polanski apologized, and they saw each other again. One night he took her to his apartment which had even less furniture than it has now and no electricity. He lit a candle and excused himself, flying upstairs to don a Frankenstein mask. He crept up behind her, raised his arms, and whinnied like a madman. Sharon turned and emitted a terrible scream. It took over an hour for her hysterical weeping to subside. Not long afterward Polanski informed Ransohoff that Sharon would do fine for The Vampire Killers. On the set he treated her as if they never saw each other at night. He cajoled, flattered, got angry – which ever worked – and never had lunch with her. During the nude bathtub scene, he snapped still pictures of her. Still enthusiastic, he had her pose all over the set in the altogether, and then sent the results to Playboy. She plays a gorgeous redhead in The Vampire Killers – and she shows

Roman Polanski walked into his apartment in a sharp blue blazer and high-gloss shoes, carrying a briefcase. He had a good-sized nose and searching, deep-set eyes, and he nodded briskly to Sharon. “A Barbara called,” she let out daintily. “Do you know who that could be?”

“A Barbara?” he called from the kitchen, out of sight. A pause. “You didn’t get any last name? Always get last names. I don’t know any Barbara that would be calling. Sharon, Sharon. There’s no liquor here. Always see to it that we have enough whisky. Can’t you do that?”

Sharon went on the phone to order some, worrying about which brands to specify. She didn’t want to be embarrassed by asking Roman – although he would certainly tell her. He knew the correct whiskey brands in London, the good pastrami places in Manhattan, and the right topless spots in Hollywood. He learned a country’s customs and its language in a couple of weeks. He took a bath now upstairs, calling down for Sharon to fetch him some tea. Later he descended the stairs in a cowboy outfit and boots, ready for dinner. Some movie friends had shown up, and he led the party on foot toward Alvaro’s restaurant.

At the restaurant Sharon basked in the eyes that roved over her. She listened big-eyed to Polanski explain the difference between the sun’s heat and that on earth, apropos of Truffaut’s Fahrenheit 451. The only trouble was that it was difficult to digest pasta in such a giddy atmosphere, and she complained of her stomach. After Polanski figured out how to work the waiter’s ballpoint pen, he signed the check.

In a dreamlike state, Sharon began slipping into her fox fur coat in the foyer. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tall Englishman with a prep-school tie and large teeth popped up and put his arm around her. “Ummm, you have a sexy feel, love. Don’t we all love to touch you now..” She squirmed away.

Out on the street, she said, “Roman, a complete stranger began hugging me in there.”

“Yeah? Really?” A short distance away he suddenly spied a blond in fox fur who had the same duck walk that Sharon has. “Hey, there goes Sharon,” he said. “Let’s get her and put the two of them together!”

“Don’t you dare,” she said, her anger flashing. Another day, away from Sharon, Polanski said, “I’m trying to get her to be a little meaner, She’s too nice, and she doesn’t believe in her beauty. Once when I was very poor in Poland I had got some beautiful shoes, and I immediately became very ashamed of them. All my friends had plain, ordinary shoes, and I was embarrassed to walk in front of them. That’s how Sharon feels about her beauty. She’s embarrassed by it.”

Sharon has a quarter-inch scar under her left eye and one beside the eye, the result of accidents which she keeps having. As Polanski drove with her one night in London, meticulously keeping on the left in the custom of the land, an Englishman with a couple of pints under his belt hit him from the right. The only one hurt was Sharon, whose head bounced off the dashboard, spraying blood on slacks, boots and fur. An angry red wound appeared at the start of her scalp, and it will leave another whitish scar on her head. With blond hair combed down over her forehead to hide it, she skied at St. Moritz. And then she caught a jet for Hollywood because Ransohoff had called. She must redo a few scenes for Don’t Make Waves. She grumbled a little. She found she could grumble to Ransohoff now. She hated Hollywood, and she didn’t want to leave Polanski. Also, she hated to fly. She had to be drugged to endure it.

And then she appeared beside Ransohoff at La Scala restaurant in Beverly Hills. She had a black costume that looked more like a slip than a dress, and her blond head caught glints of movie-star light as she turned this way and that. “Oh, there’s David! David Hemmings. David, David!”

David Hemmings, who had been featured with her in 13 and had gone on to star in Antonioni’s Blow-Up waved. Other celebrities flicked glances her way, at each other, to the door to see what majesty might enter next. Occasionally they looked down at food or drink. The place was as crowded as Alvaro’s in London, the customers practically the same. Ransohoff wore an open-neck sport shirt and shapeless coat, and he talked business. “Listen, sweetie, I’m going to have to cut some stuff out of The Vampire Killers. Your spanking scene has got to go.”

“Oh, don’t do that. Why would you do that?” “Because it doesn’t move the story. The story has got to move. Bang, bang, bang. No American audience is going to sit still while Polanski indulges himself.”

“But Europeans make movies differently than Americans, ” she explained to the producer she once feared. “Blow-Up moved slowly. But wasn’t it a great film!”

“I’ll tell you something, baby. I didn’t like it. If I’d have seen it before the reviews, I’d have said it’d never make it. It’s not my kind of picture. I want to be told a story without all that hocus-pocus symbolism going on.”

“But that one scene, Marty. When the girl show’s her, ah –” (only Sharon said the Anglo-Saxon word). In Hollywood, New York and London they all talked now about Blow-Up, dwelling on that scene.

“Yeah, I got to hand it to the guy for that one.” Ransohoff said, chuckling. “He pulled a good one off there.”

“Oh, I want to do a complete nude scene,” she said. “Say you’ll let me!”

“OK, OK,” Ransohoff said, bored, looking toward the door. “Yes, yes.”

“Do it now. Don’t just say it.” Then Sharon got bored.

Early in the morning Sharon appeared before the camera at Malibu Beach, redoing a scene for Don’t Make Waves. The sun had a hard time getting through the wisps of fog, and strong klieg lights helped out. In a sequence with an undraped David Draper, “Mr. Universe”, Sharon stuck out her backside and shot out her front. Magically, a button or two came undone on her polka-dot blouse, and after close examination of camera angle, director Sandy Mackendrick decided to leave it that way. He gave Sharon guidance in rubbing mineral oil over Draper’s bare back, as the scene called for. “Treat him like a horse,” he said. “Pat him just as you would an animal. That’s the way..”

She lovingly went over Draper’s muscled back, and then went “ugh” when the camera ceased to roll. The scene was done over and over. In her tiny trailer dressing room, she took a break and smoked daintily. “I’m happier when I’m working,” she said. “I don’t have time to think to much that way.”

One thing to think about was a visit to her parent’s home in Palos Verdes Estates, an hour’s drive away. (Her father was stationed in Korea, her mother and two younger sisters were at home.) Driving to the house one night in a heavy seaside fog, she became quieter and quieter, her words less Anglo-Saxon. A passenger beside her remarked, as the car neared its destination, that the fog reminded him of snow. “You know what it looks like to me?” she said. “Vomit.”

Her mother – a pleasant, plump, dark-haired woman – turned Sharon’s face this way and that. “Have you had your blood count recently, honey? You look so pale to me.” What did she think of Sharon’s becoming a movie star? What did she think of Roman Polanski? “You know,” she said, in the voice of every middle-class American mother, “I don’t care – just as long as she’s happy.”

Back in Hollywood Sharon moved from hotel to hotel, from one friend’s home to another. She talked to Polanski by phone. (It embarrassed him to try to write letters in English because of his mistakes.) So many things were unresolved, shadowy. Ransohoff was sore at Polanski because Polanski had gone way over the budget on The Vampire Killers (“Very un-Hollywood of him,” a Filmways executive said; another only referred to him as “the little–.”); Polanski was mad at Ransohoff because Ransohoff was cutting away at his film and postponing its release in the States. (Ransohoff had also had difficulties with Tony Richardson, the English director, over the budget and the cutting of The Loved One.) “The thing is,” said Sharon, “that Roman is an artist.”

At night Sharon went to The Daisy, a private discotheque in Beverly Hills. She wore an aviator’s leather jacket, slacks, and tinted Ben Franklin glasses. Seated near the dance floor, she silently watched young actresses her age go through their gyrations. Suzanne Pleshette and Patty Duke did subdued turns; Linda Ann Evans, in a miniskirt, did a much more spirited fling. Carolyn Jones, who only yesterday had played the ingénue, now looked like a chaperone. Sharon gave Linda Ann Evans the once over and said, “I’ve worn a much shorter mini in London. That’s nothing.”

From another table a slim, bronzed young man with a pampered black hair ambled confidently past Tina Sinatra, Patty Duke, Suzanne Pleshette – and hovered over this strange blond beauty in an aviator’s leather jacket. He had the air of a football star in a small town high school, who was used to having his pick. He showed his beautiful white teeth and said, “Let’s dance.”

“No,” she said, “let’s not.”

He kept the smile on his face as he backed away. He was now another who had tried to bring Sharon Tate into a private fantasy – but he didn’t know that she had passed his type long ago.

She was going to fly to London and get engaged to Roman Polanski. Then she was going to fly back to star in Valley of the Dolls. Ransohoff was lending her to 20th Century-Fox to play a sexy bombshell who goes to Europe to star in nudie movies and who bewitches the world with her improbable lushness.

#sharontate #sharon tate #sixties #1960s #vintage #hollywood #old hollywood #1967 #sexy little me #john bowers #saturday evening post #article #cinema #fearless vampire killers #valley of the dolls #don't make waves #roman polanski #paul tate #fort macarthur

[banditthewriter]

Less Than Impressed - Billy Russo

Prompt: Hi Bandit! I’d like to start by saying your writing is phenomenal and I’m infatuated with your Billy Russo. I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is a paramedic who grew up friends with Frank and he told her all about Billy’s way with women. So when Billy and her meet he turns on the charm but she’s less than impressed. Also I was hoping there could be camping and specifically a camp fire....I’m not sure why I want the camp fire so bad— buttt pretty please! Prompter: Anonymous

This one... kinda did it’s own thing? But there’s definitely a camp fire? Haha. I hope you like it.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

“Drinks on me,” Frank offered as he settled down on the stool next to you. “You look like hell.”

“Well thanks Frankie boy,” you joked as you bumped your shoulder into his. “Work is kicking my ass. Being a paramedic in the city is a lot different from being one in the sticks.”

He laughed and flagged down the bartender to order beers for the two of you. You accepted yours gratefully and drained half of it in one go.

“Shit Y/N, you afraid it’s gonna disappear?”

You nudged your leg against his and leaned forward against the bar.

“Been a rough few days,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’m ready for our vacation though. Can’t believe it’s been a year already.”

Ever since you were kids, your family took vacations with the Castles at least once a year. Once you got older and your parents stopped the vacations, you picked them up with Frank. It was about a week with you, Frank, Maria, and the kids. Last year Curtis had joined and you’d all had a great time.

“Yeah, about that,” Frank said, drawing the words out in a way that made you groan.

“Please don’t tell me that we’re postponing. Do you know how hard it was to get a week off work when I’m relatively new here?”

Frank was quick to assure you that that wasn’t what he meant.

“Nah, not postponing. Just a slight change in plans?” He cleared his throat and turned to look at his beer, ignoring your narrowed eyes. “Maria and the kids got double booked for the week we’re supposed to go; she’s got this thing with her parents and they haven’t seen the kids in a while. So it’ll just be me, you, and Curtis.”

It wasn’t perfect because you would definitely miss Maria and the kids, but it could be worse. You opened your mouth to say that but apparently Frank wasn’t done.

“And Billy.”

You groaned. Then you lifted your beer to basically drain the rest of it. When Frank raised an eyebrow at you, you pointed at him and shook your head.

“If I have to spend a week with that man, you’re buying more than just the first round. Pull the wallet out big boy, I need whiskey.”

------

The first time you met Billy, you were prepared to be unimpressed. Frank had talked about his buddy from the service enough that you almost felt like you knew him. And while you didn’t fault Frank for his taste in friends, you weren’t particularly interested in meeting the guy.

He held his hand out to you for a handshake and you had sighed before you accepted it. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything about your reaction.

That only lasted until later that same night when he was asking you a question and you seemed completely uninterested.

“Did I offend you somehow? Piss you off in a past life maybe?”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in the chair you had claimed. Billy had hovered around you for a while, a familiar look in his eye that would have flattered you if you didn’t know what you knew about him.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said as you waved him off, effectively ending the conversation.

Or maybe not so effectively.

“No, c’mon, you’re acting like I’m a goddamn leper. What is it?”

You shrugged a shoulder as you looked over to where Frank was in deep conversation with Curtis.

“Listen Russo, I know all about you and your interests. To each their own,” you added because you didn’t judge him for his proclivities. “I’m just not interested in being a notch on a belt. You and me will get along just fine as soon as you stop flirting with me like I’m one of the many that’s just gonna kneel at your feet.”

A lot of emotions washed over Billy’s face before he landed on humor.

“Jesus,” he let out lowly, chuckling as he did so, “you don’t think much of me, do you?”

You sighed and turned to face him head on.

“I just wanna make sure that you’re aware of how this works. We’re each friends with Frank, but that’s it. So just go ahead and turn off the charm because it’s not gonna happen.”

He laughed and leaned back in his chair.

“Message received,” he said with a raise of his glass. Then he stood up and moved away from you.

------

The thing with Billy was that he didn’t turn off the charm, but you didn’t think it was completely directed at you. It was more just that that’s how he was.

And while yeah, you’d been a little rude that first night, you stuck by what you said. You weren’t impressed by a guy who probably couldn’t remember where his dick had been; the man-whore appeal had worn off back in college. And as an adult, you didn’t want that in your life.

“I didn’t tell you about Billy because I was trying to warn you,” Frank had explained a few weeks later when he finally heard about you going off on Billy at the party. “I just wanted you to know what he’s like. He flirts but it’s not serious. He wouldn’t try to get in your pants just because he knows how close we are.”

That made sense. Brothers in arms, it was kind of an unspoken rule that you didn’t mess with another Marine’s family. As far as Frank saw it, that included you.

“If he actually was serious, he wouldn’t flirt. He just gets really intense and withdrawn when he has human emotions,” Frank had added with a laugh. “As long as he’s flirting with you, you have nothing to worry about.”

You weren’t worried about that in the least.

------

“So sleeping arrangements,” you said as you dropped your pack on the ground next to where Frank and Curtis were unloading the rest of the equipment.

“Figured you and I can bunk in one tent, Bill and Curt can take the other,” Frank said as he gestured to where Billy was putting one of the tents together. “These tents aren’t really big enough for three people, but if you’d be more comfortable, one of us can take turns sleeping in the truck.”

“No worries pal,” you said with a smack to his arm as you walked over to grab the cooler. “We used to sleep in tents together back when we were kids, remember? You had a Superman sleeping bag.”

Frank laughed with a shake of his head.

“Shit, I almost forgot about that thing. Didn’t you fill it with mud one night?”

Curtis shook his head as he carried sleeping bags under his arms towards the tent Billy had put together.

“Stay away from my sleeping bag,” Curtis warned as he ducked into the tent.

Billy hesitated before he followed. You watched curiously and then turned to look at Frank. If he noticed his friend’s weird behavior, he didn’t say anything. Instead he grabbed the other tent and moved to where the ground was flat enough to put it together.

You couldn’t remember Billy saying more than a handful of words since you got in the car. It’d been about two hours from the city to where you were camping for the weekend, and he’d stayed quiet. It’d been up to Frank, Curtis, and you to keep the conversation going.

Maybe he had a lot going on at Anvil. Or maybe he was still hungover from being out the night before.

Later, after everything was put together, Frank looked around the campsite and swore.

“We need to get logs for the fire. Split up?”

You were about to head off with Frank when Curtis spoke up.

“Alright, me and Castle will go this way. You and Bill check the woods that way. Cool?”

Neither you or Billy had a chance to protest before Frank and Curtis headed into the woods. You looked over at Billy and frowned. He didn’t seem to care either way.

“You can just stick here,” he said with a gesture to the campsite. “Shouldn’t take us too long.”

You put your hands on your hips and leveled him with a glare.

“I’m not useless Russo. I can help gather firewood. Let’s go,” you said as you marched off in the direction Curtis had instructed.

But not before you saw Billy shake his head with a small smile on his lips.

After about twenty minutes of walking around and gathering wood, you glanced over at Billy. He had a huge armful but didn’t look to be in any rush to get back to the campsite.

He also hadn’t said anything since you’d headed into the woods.

“What’s going on with you Russo?” When he looked over at you, you shrugged your shoulder and explained, “You’ve just been quiet all day. I’m starting to get worried.”

He shook his head with a laugh.

“You don’t need to worry about me Y/N. I’m fine,” he added when you didn’t budge.

There was something else there, something under his words. He noticed that his voice had given a little too much away and he turned in the direction the two of you had come.

“This should be enough for now. C’mon, let’s get back,” he said with a jerk of his head.

You followed behind him, your eyes on his back when you weren’t watching where you were walking. He looked tense. You weren’t sure why it bothered you, but it did.

When you got back to the clearing, it appeared that Curtis and Frank had been even more successful than the two of you in their wood gathering. The fire they had built was closer to a bonfire than a campfire.

“Are we sacrificing virgins or something?” you mumbled as you trekked up beside Billy, rolling your eyes as you watched Frank and Curtis throw even more wood on the fire.

“Why,” Billy asked with a raised eyebrow, grinning at you, “know any virgins?”

------

You were one hundred percent unsurprised that Frank was the first person that required medical attention. Between you and Curtis, you were able to soothe the burn he’d gotten by reaching into the fire to fix a log like an idiot.

You were glad that Curtis had brought a pretty extensive first aid kit because you hadn’t even thought about it. Not that you could have taken anything from the ambulance without getting in trouble, but you had amassed a pretty good sized first aid kit over the years.

“You learn to be prepared when you’re around Marines,” Curtis said as he smacked the back of Frank’s head when he noticed him picking at the gauze on his hand. “Would you stop it? You’re gonna get sepsis and I’m not interested in doing a field amputation.”

“Don’t wanna relive the good old days?” asked Billy from the other side of the fire, long legs stretched out as he grinned at the three of you.

“You got a strange perception of good old days,” Curtis replied as he removed his gloves, taking yours as well to be disposed of.

You walked over to drop the rest of the supplies back into the kit. While you did that, you couldn’t help but notice that Billy was watching you. Not directly, but from the corner of his eye.

It felt like you were trying to put a puzzle together upside down without seeing the image first. Every little detail that you picked up wasn’t enough to tell you if you were right or wrong, but you were just doing what felt right.

That’s why you moved to sit in the folding chair next to Billy.

He raised an eyebrow at you and looked back at the fire.

“I think I misjudged you,” you said quietly, your words barely audible over the roar of the fire. “The things Frank told me made me jump to some assumptions. I haven’t been really fair to you because of it.”

He rolled his head to look at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“You telling me you realized I’m not just out there trying to sleep with any woman that’ll stand still long enough?”

You were pretty sure he was quoting something you’d said about him once. With a wince, you turned to look at the fire.

“You’re alright Russo,” you said instead. “I think we should start over, be friends.”

He laughed, but not unkindly. You looked over at him with a raised eyebrow until he explained what was so funny.

“You wanna be friends. Okay,” he said with a shake of his head, his eyes looking orange in the firelight, “we can be friends. Just don’t go hitting on me, right? I’m immune to your charms.”

You laughed because that was what he was trying to do, make you laugh, but you still felt like you were looking at an upside down puzzle. Only now you were pretty sure you were missing some of the pieces.

------

The days passed pretty quickly. Frank snored so loud that you often woke him up by hitting him with your pillow. Sometimes the guys would go to the river to fish, sometimes you’d play cards or chess. You had a few books so you’d sprawl out and read while the guys got into heated discussions on which of them would survive in a zombie apocalypse.

“Fuck,” Billy swore as he gripped his hand, blood gushing from where he’d apparently stabbed himself while messing with a can opener.

You grabbed the first aid kit and waved Curtis off when he started to stand. You went over to where Billy had been moving the trash into a bigger bag.

“Let me see,” you said as you grabbed his hand. “Looks deep. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You found a bottle of water and poured it onto his hand to wash away the blood and hopefully any dirt. Then you started to sort through the items until you found disinfectant.

“This is going to sting,” you warned as you opened the bottle.

“I’ve had worse,” he promised, voice low and soothing.

You didn’t doubt that. All three of the guys were covered in scars from their service. Hell, Curtis lost a leg. You knew they’d all had worse than what they’d receive out here, but you picked your job because you didn’t like to see people hurt and wanted to help any way you could.

He flinched a bit when you poured the disinfectant over his cut, watching it bubble. You dabbed the skin around it dry and checked it again.

“Don’t think you’ll need stitches,” you surmised as you inspected the injury. “How about some antibacterial and a bandaid? Maybe there’s some My Little Pony bandaids from when Lisa got hurt last year,” you teased as you looked up at him.

Billy wasn’t looking at his hand; he was staring at you. When your startled gaze met his, he nodded and then looked down at his hand.

“You know best,” he said simply.

Uncertain and a little off kilter, you fished through the kit until you found the ointment and some bandaids. You put the ointment on him carefully and then applied the bandaid, making sure that it wouldn’t bunch up when he used his hand.

“How’s that?”

You met his gaze once more and found yourself holding your breath. He made a fist and then lowered his hand.

“Better,” he promised with a nod. He looked down at the trash and then back at you. “I’m gonna finish up here. Thanks for your help.”

You barely could do more than give him a nod before you grabbed the kit and started to walk back over to your chair. You saw Curtis and Frank watching you curiously but you ignored them. Instead you dropped your stuff and looked around the clearing.

“I’m gonna go by the river for a bit,” you said with a jerk of your thumb in the direction of the path to the water. “Come and get me if you need me.”

They nodded and you spun around on your heel, trying not to look like you were making a retreat. A glance over showed that Billy was watching you leave.

------

Your shoes were beside you as your feet dangled into the water. You’d found a rock that was dry and that’s where you settled yourself. After the first few moments of silence, you’d taken your shoes off and dipped your feet into the cold water.

You didn’t have your phone and you’d left your watch in the tent, so you weren’t sure how long you’d been out there. It was getting dark, but there was enough light still that you didn’t feel like you needed to rush back.

Footsteps made you jerk your head up. You saw Billy come down the path. He looked for you and then made his way over to you. Once he was beside you on your rock, he removed his shoes and socks, rolling his pants up a little, and settled his feet into the water.

“You’ve been out here for a while,” he said as he looked out over the water. “Frank asked me to come check on you.”

That was strange; if Frank was worried about you, he would have come himself. When you mentioned that, Billy just raised his eyebrows.

“Do you know what Frankie told me about you before we met?” At your curious noise, he grinned and looked over at you. “He said that you were smart, driven. He actually said that you and me had a lot in common.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to be sarcastic and tell him you hadn’t slept with nearly as many women as he had, but you bit it back. You’d made progress with him and you didn’t want to undo it just because you were snarky.

Instead you thought about it and realized that Frank was right; the two of you did complement each other.

“I can see that,” you said with a nod, leaning back on your hands. “I guess I never thought about the things he may have told you about me.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes moving over your face.

“He also told me that you and me would be good together if we didn’t kill each other first.”

That drew you up short. Frank definitely hadn’t said anything like that to you.

“Good together? Us?”

“I don’t think he’s wrong,” Billy said with a shrug as he looked back out at the water. “The more I get to know you, the more I find myself wanting to be with you. Guess I’m just waiting to see how you feel about it.”

Huh. You found it hard to swallow, your mind racing. That puzzle you’d been imagining was suddenly flipped over, the image staring back at you in technicolor. It was this moment, you and Billy alone and being honest with each other for the first time.

And if you were going to be honest with him, you needed to be honest with yourself. You’d felt something for Billy but had discarded it as just physical attraction. But just like he said, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him. And then this trip?

The silence stretched on longer, but Billy didn’t look discouraged. He just continued to stare out at the water.

You remembered Frank from so long ago telling you that Billy got intense and withdrawn when he had human emotions. Intense was definitely a word you’d use to describe Billy and you’d obviously noticed that he’d been a little withdrawn this trip.

Huh.

“Billy?”

He turned his head to look at you and you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. The hand that you had bandaged came up to cup the back of your head as he kissed you back. When he pulled back, he was smiling at you.

“You’re not a notch on a belt to me,” he explained, his words bringing back your first meeting with him. “I just want you to know that before this goes anywhere.”

You hadn’t even thought that. You tugged on his shirt to pull him a little closer. The reminder of your first meeting had you grinning at him.

“Who knows, maybe in time you’ll have me kneeling at your feet.”

You’d said it in such a low, breathy voice that it was obvious what you meant by that. Billy gave you a wolfish grin before he tugged you into a kiss that made your body feel like it was on fire.

This was definitely not how you pictured this trip going, but you had to admit that you didn’t mind in the least.

------

When you and Billy got back to the campsite, you watched as Frank carried his sleeping bag towards the tent that Curtis and Billy had been in. From this vantage point, you could see Billy’s pack sitting just inside your own tent.

Billy squeezed your hand, grinning at you as he rolled his eyes. You looked over at Curtis and Frank who each wore shit eating grins.

“Just try to keep it down, alright? I didn’t bring ear plugs and there’s some things I just don’t wanna know about my best friends,” Frank said as he threw his sleeping bag into the other tent.

You were tempted to put on a show just to make him eat those words, but you just shook your head. Billy brushed his shoulder against yours and then pulled you along behind him and over to the chairs near the smaller fire that Curtis had started to make dinner.

You’d see how they were during dinner before you decided to be petty. After all, Frank was the reason you got this at all.

Maybe you’d borrow the car and get them both ear plugs to last the rest of the week. Just as a way to say thank you.

X

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[benbarnesescape]

Part 5: Co-Ed Problems

AU!Frat Billy Russo x Reader 

Warning:Language 

_____

“You work fast.”

Curtis’ voice cuts through Columbia's quad area, loud enough to garner Billy's attention as he pulls his head phones free, watching the tall African American man take a seat across from him. Curtis has a shit eating grin on his face, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Three days and somehow it had spread like wildfire.

Billy groans as he asks,

“Who told you?”

“Karen.”

“Karen?” Billy frowns and Curtis chuckles,

“She’s a mutual friend of ours. Knows Y/N pretty well and we have a business class together. She couldn’t wait to gush how smitten Y/N was a few days back.”

That knowledge makes Billy’s stomach flop. The fact of the matter was, so was he. He had been disappointed when he had woken up alone. He had thought that despite your jesting between sessions that you were into him.

He had hoped for one more round before treating you to breakfast and seeing where the morning took you. .

“Yeah. She also is betting that you don’t realize that Y/N left her number on your desk for a whole other week.” Curtis takes a sip of his coffee and Billy looks at him dumbfoundedly.

You left your number?

Curtis spits out his coffee, laughs.

“Of course you didn’t realize she left her number on your desk. Lucky for you to have a friend like me. You could’ve seriously fucked up your chances.”

Billy falls back in his seat, throws both his hands behind his head,

“You didn’t tell me that she grew up.”

Curtis rolls his eyes,

“Because I’m responsible for telling you about the process of puberty?”

Billy snorts, grabs for his water bottle and takes a swig,

“You know what I mean. She’s….you didn’t tell me she was fucking sexy. And like confident and smart and…..”

“Oh god...listen I told you Y/N was awesome.” Curtis cuts him off. “She’s always been awesome. You were the one all hung up in your feelings not to realize.” Curtis laughs and Billy shrugs.

“Okay whatever.” He waits a beat, “Who else knows?”

Curtis raises a brow and Billy shakes her head.

“Listen we aren’t in the most chivalrous of fraternities and I don’t want her name getting pulled through the mud. She’s different.”

Curtis snorts,

“You’re group of boys up in Maryland may have been absolute dogs but that's not how we roll in New York.”

Billy rolls his eyes,

“People still talk.”

Curtis shrugs,

“Fair. if Karen knows than for sure Frank, Dinah….David though I doubt he would care. Sarah probs because Dinah, Y/N, Karen and her are pretty tight. Oh and she’s fucking David.”

“A small group of people.” Billy laughs and Curtis smiles, shaking his head,

“It's all good. The people that matter know. Just call her. She’s typically pretty busy but I could see her making time for you. She’s always had a thing for you…”

Billy smiles, nodding as he returns his eyes back to his book.

He knew that much to be true.

Dinah Madani was pissed at you.

Not pissed like she was when she found out you got into more Ivy League schools than her. Not pissed like when she thought you were going to move in with Karen and Sarah instead of her.

Pissed on a whole other level.

She doesn’t come home the first night. Texts you to let you know she’s staying with her parents for a few days. You try to let it slide, throw yourself into the play that your co-starring, the few papers you need to wrap up for classes.

Still makes you uneasy the third day when you’re welcomed by a dark, untouched apartment as you shuffle into your tight home.

The problem was of course both your pride. You had apologized - the once - and she had accused you of being selfish. Of not realizing the stress you had put her through.

You weren’t sure if it was the fact you went AWOL for a night or the fact that you had fucked Billy before she did. Karen had showed her a picture of him and though Dinah had acted like she wasn’t impressed, you knew she was.

Great.

Day four you’re neck deep in long physics equations for your astronomy course, trying to distract the anxious feeling in your gut. Not only was Dinah effectively ignoring you, but Billy hasn't texted you since you left. You didn’t want to feel insecure about it, disappointed, sad but you were.

You had scheduled time in later that evening to cry it out, all the tension that was building up in you.

For now, you allowed yourself to sit in the dusty stacks of the old library, cursing whoever had created over complicated equations to explain black holes.

“Can I join you?”

Its her sharp, knowing voice that cuts through your brains thoughts, causing you to peer up into chocolate eyes that mirror your own. She has that knowing, cocky smirk on her lips and you wave a hand across from you, clearing out books so she could camp down.

“Bought dinner. Pizza from Zollis.”

You give her a grateful smile as she sighs, falls into her seat. She looks over at you, before shaking her head.

“Listen. I’m sorry. My big fucking ego got in the way and…..I’m not happy to admit it but alas here we are.”

“No,” you sigh as you throw your pen down on the table. “My big fucking ego got in the way. No, actually it was Billys big fucking cock and my ego became a slave to it.

I got dicked down dumb.”

Dinah snorts before she erupts into laughter and shakes her head,

“Well I accept your apology.”

“Good. because I accept yours.”

She smiles as she tugs on the pizza box, dragging it in front of the both of you. She hesitates, looks at you,

“Okay you know I hate….being wrong and admitting stuff that makes me vulnerable.”

You nod as you pop open the box, salivating at the pizza. You’d been chowing down on tuna and butter noodles for two days now - this was welcomed relief.

“I just….Billy got hot. And like you’re hot and like I’m hot but I just...I don’t know. I got weirded out because I was jealous you fucked him. You know. He’s hot. I’ve been staring at pictures on his Facebook and Instagram for days. I hate myself.”

She pouts and you look up at her, a mouth full of pizza before you start laughing,

“I knew it!”

“What!”

“Not that you ever liked Billy. That you were mad I fucked a hot guy before you. You’re the one who gets the hot guys. I get….guys like Gunner. God why does Gunner have a hard on for me?”

“Because all weird hipster theater dudes do. But also that's not true. You date hot guys you just don’t get all wrapped in them. I could tell the minute I saw you that you were all tied in the thought of you and Billy.”

You sigh as you cross your legs, bite into more of your pizza.

“Yeah but for what that's worth I don’t think anything will come from it.”

“What’d you mean?”

“He hasn’t texted me.”

“....so?”

“So I thought he would reach out”

Dinah frowns.

“DM? FB Message? Snapchat?”

You sigh,

“You know I don’t go by my real name on there. Not after I starred in Little Shop of Horrors and that guy stalked me and I had to make all my accounts private. I’m not the easiest to find.”

Dinah nods her head, shrugs.

“I don’t bite he’s not into you. Billy was all about you growing up. And like you were cute back then….a little awkward but cute,” you scoff as she continues, “but you’re hot now. And funny. And great…..”

She huffs out a breath, before her lips break into a smile,

“Unless…..”

“Unless?” you ask and she gives a nonchalant shrug, biting into another piece of her pizza.

“No.”

“C’mon. It’s the end of the school year - lets celebrate.”

“No!”

“Frank invited us when I ran into him two days ago. Said that him, and Curtis, AND BILLY, would love to have us.”

“This feels like a set up.”

“Because it is. But like come on. Give it a chance. Just one chance.”

You were far too forgiving.

It was what had you holed up in a corner of the old factory building, co-eds of all shades, sizes and years dancing in drinking in rhythm. Summer was a taste away, so close to so many young people and you were just part of a group who were watching on with curiosity.

“Lighten up.” Dinah says, walking back with two red solo cups and you sigh. You can’t. You really want to but you’re anxious. You should be out monitoring the night sky, or inside studying or sleeping.

Not standing in a corner hoping Billy would notice you.

“There they are!”

David’s voice is loud over the music as he scurries through the crowd, his dirty blonde locks slicked back as he tugs on Sarah who’s on his heels. He’s proudly wearing his fraternity letters, a large smile on his lips as he bends down and hugs you deeply, Dinah.

He also smelled like he smoked enough pot to shoot them back in time.

“Didn’t think you’d show but ohhh am I glad you did.” Sarah kids as she hugs you and Dinah and you sigh, shake your head.

“What are you talking about?”

“Billy’s been in a mood all week. I mean, I thought it was funny at first you ghosting him but now his mood is getting old..”

You roll your eyes as Dinah smirks, takes a sip of her drink.

“He hasn’t texted me.” You say evenly.

“That’s what he’s telling everyone. That you're standing him up.” Sarah wiggles her brows and David comes behind her, kissing her neck before resting his head on her shoulder,

“Doesn't matter. Lets drink. Party. Smoke. We’re all going to be fucking seniors next year...free!”

You laugh as Sarah sighs, presses her lips against his own. You never understood their dynamic - Sarah was fun, light and free, David more awkward and intellectual but together they worked.

You look over at Dinah, who is making flirty eyes with someone across the room and mutter,

“I’m going to get another drink. This piss beer isn’t cutting it.”

“Cool. Don’t wander too far.”

You nod as you move your way through the crowd, ignoring the way groups of men stare you down. You were going to give this party five more minutes before you dipped, your heart not in it.

Sarah bringing up Billy wasn’t helping.

You find the makeshift bar, take a look at your poisons. Vodka, gin, tequila, whiskey. You sigh, opting for the gin, pouring a hearty amount along with the tonic soda that's left over. A splash but a splash enough to get you further into the night.

You take a long sip, breathing relief.

Okay, maybe ten more minutes….

_____

Tag List:

@ rockintensse @missphanosaur18 s @ninjathrowingstork@charlieimaginesstuff @ benbarnesfanforever @ladyblablabla @deerprongs@ugh-my-back @padfootagain @aylinnmaslow  @ marauderskeeper@caitlyn-blackwell  @princessderavenclaw @starlesskyox @thesandbeneathmytoes @ marauderskeeper @ youveseen–thebutcher@xgminigypsy@iheartbinbons @just-nikkii @katbernoulli @suchatinyinfinity @aikeia

#ben barnes #ben barnes reader #billy ruso #billy russo x reader #billy russo au

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Red and Green Cloud prt 10

Leaning against the railing of the front veranda, Lance was watching Shiro and Keith talking over near the Telula. His perfect Christmas had unravelled in the bathroom, then seemingly kept unravelling. For half the table lunch had been stiff. The aunties openly grilling both he and Veronica for their chosen relationships. Veronica wasn't as placid as he was with them. Her outburst had put his to shame, leading to crying aunts and a long lunch of possibly the worst small talk he'd ever heard coming from the end of their table. His side was more livelier. His mami didn't care, she was just as loud as everyone else as they popped Christmas crackers. Veronica didn't shy away from doting on her girlfriend, something Lance wished he'd had the confidence to do. Curtis lost his cracker toy to Shiro's drink which they'd laughed way too hard over. All he could do was block out those disapproving voices and stares for now. He smiled and held hands with Keith. Trying his best to hide how the popping noise made him just. Keith looked so happy that it made his heart ache. That was all he wanted for his husband.

The thing he'd been most excited over had been Keith opening his presents. Everyone was full from pretty gorging themselves on the delicious meals his family had filled the tables with, there were more different dishes than there were people. He liked to think he held himself back on both eating way too much and in giving too many gifts. He'd gifted Keith 12 presents in total. Which some might see as going overboard... he was worried he had, but he had a good reason why it had to be 12. 6 as his friend and 6 as his husband. Aiming from ages 8 to 14. He'd wanted to give Keith loving memories to wipe out the horrible ones of being in care... After his own little spat with his traumas, he really should have known better. He'd been so focused on trying to make his husband happy, he'd made him cry instead.

Somewhere between the lunch box and the new comms he'd set up for Keith with access to all the bounty hunter stuff related to the area where the compound was, his husband had started to shake. His scent had taken on a pained edge, yet he'd let him hold him. With all the gifts had, Lance was enjoying sitting on the floor with Keith settled between his legs, like a parent with their child. It was after Keith opened his gift from mami that Keith had taken off. Lance had gone to go after him, but Shiro had stopped him and gone instead. As an act of apology, Veronica turned the attention to Acxa and her gifts. He knew his sister was sorry for what happened by the front door and hated that she had to be. He also hated that he kind of felt she'd announced her own relationship to take the pressure off of him and Keith. There were so many things on his mind... all of them serving to piss him off. Why couldn't he be the one to talk to Keith? If he'd done something wrong or pushed too hard, he needed to be the one to apologise. If it was from Keith's past, then shouldn't Keith be able to lean on him a little? He might have freaked out because of Veronica, but Keith usually... No. His mood was only going further downhill. Keith had been right. The idea of a perfect Christmas was impossible. He'd know it could be shaky, yet...

"Mijo?" "Mami..." He'd told himself he wasn't going to cry again. He'd been standing out the front of the house for the better part of half a varga. The beer in his hold had started growing warm, as he'd tried to pick at the label. The aunties found his gloves rude. He'd nearly taken them off to show them his messed up hand, just to shut them up. There were more important things in life than one's sexuality... like catching bad guys and saving the planet. So why couldn't they see past the musty smelling makeup they caked on? Keith was the future. He'd been the whole reason Voltron succeeded "They still talking?" "Yeah. How are you? Lunch was a bit of a fiasco" "I'm fine, mijo. I'm proud of my children and the adults they have grown into. Don't you worry about any of all that. I learned long ago that the aunties will never be pleased. How are you feeling...?"

Forcing down a swig of beer, Lance looked to his mother "Over what happened this morning? Or about Keith?" "Keith... both... this morning. Is it rude to pry?" "You wouldn't be my mami if you didn't. I'm sorry for freaking out. V took me by surprise and Keith tells me I'm still putting too much on myself. I really... after last time, I really wanted to be happy. You know?" "You've always been that way. I'm not too sure about your choice in gifts" His mother had no right to be complaining. Aliens didn't value gold as they did on Earth. It was simply a shiny metal whose uses had mostly been surpassed. The watch set her gifted her and his father would have cost a mint before everything on earth collapsed at the hands of the Galra "Mami, Keith was in really bad foster homes. He didn't have... he didn't have this whole Santa thing and family... I wanted to give him a taste of that, but now I'm standing here wondering how I could have made things better for him. I wanted us all to have a good Christmas. I'm making money from my job, and I'm making money doing something I like. I felt lost without Allura. I'm so sorry for... before. I know I can't make up for it. I know it... so I wanted to do better. I wanted Keith to see how warm and happy family can be. That we love him. That it's ok to be selfish... and now I don't know what to say to him"

Letting her gather him into his arms, Lance felt weak for needing her comfort "Mijo, I'm sure Keith is happy. Between yesterday and last night, I feel he's probably overwhelmed by this. You said he isn't used to such a fuss, and now we're all fussing over him. Plus, I've seen how he looks at you. He adores you" "He adores me... but... mami, I want to be there for him too. I know I'm not good enough for him... but I love him" "He knows you do. He knows... He loves you, mijo. And don't you dare say you're not good enough for him. I'm sure once he's finished talking to Shiro, he'll want to talk to you" "Yeah... maybe. I know he probably doesn't want me to have another episode, and that he's probably trying to consider my feelings, it just really sucks to be pushed away" "Mijo..." The gently testing tone in the way his mother spoke told him the conversation was going back to what gas happened. He knew it before she even continued "... will you tell me what it's like? Or how it happened. If Veronica did something..." "No! No, mami. It wasn't her. It was but it wasn't. I was thinking about the people who hurt me. I'm kind of sensitive over my hair... when she touched my hair it sent me over. V wasn't being mean. Or trying to be mean. And it's like... it's like having all your worst fears happen at once. That panic fills your body. You... you're there but you're not because you're so scared. We think I jumped on Shiro because he's bigger than V and Keith. The people who hurt me were all bigger than Zethrid. So if you put it together, something big, suddenly grabbing me and touching my hair... it's stupid" "No, mijo. I understand. We only knew bad Galra to begin with. We didn't want to be scared, but you can't help it sometimes. After sending the family into hiding, we didn't know if we'd see them again" "I was so scared I'd never see any of you. I missed home so much, but now Earth feels so different. Home didn't feel like home. I felt like a stranger here and I didn't know how to get it all back. I kept seeing Allura. I didn't want to, but she didn't go away. I couldn't tell what was real anymore... I know I hurt you. I know I hurt the kids. I thought I had a handle on it" "Nadia and Sylvio will understand..." "They shouldn't have to understand. Sorry, mami. I think I should just take a walk" "Alright, mijo. Don't forget you need to introduce Keith to his new grand-parents when they wake from their naps" "I know mami. I've been dying to introduce Keith to them... crap. I forgot about my team..." "Why don't you take them with you? You could take them to the beach or to see Allura and your friend?" "I might take them up to see Allura and Kre'el. I'm saving the beach for when Keith is with us" "Ok. I love you, my precious baby boy" "I love you too, mami. I'm sorry my head isn't great" "Nonsense. You're working hard and I couldn't be prouder"

Zak and Tobias had been "roped" into playing video games with Nadia and Sylvio. Zethrid and Ezor were assisting from the sidelines while Veronica and Acxa were cuddling in the corner near the Christmas tree. Asking Daehra and Lucteal if they wanted to come for a walk, the pair in agreed faster than Lance liked. Remaining mostly silent as he led them down the road between the paddocks and up to his favourite hill, Lance wasn't sure this was where he wanted to be. It still felt like a mess with Keith. He'd fully intended to agree if Keith asked to spend some time with Shiro on Christmas. They were brothers after all. Now he just felt like an intruder in their relationship, like he'd done in the early days of Voltron. Curtis clearly didn't mind the siblings bonding. He'd probably been used to it due to Adam. Still, Lance wondered if like him, if Curtis was maybe a little jealous of being on the outside, or if he was self projecting his doubts again.

Settling down atop the hill a few metres from the two graves, Lance patted the ground next to him. He didn't need to be an empath to know his friends were worried. Sitting either side of him, Lance wrapped his arms around Lucteal and Daehra. He liked to think he'd come a long way from where he couldn't stand the slightest of touches without wanting to murder something "How do you guys like Earth?" After walking in silence, it took a few ticks for Daehra to reply "Your home is very beautiful. Not at all like our world is. Your family is also very nice" Hugging both his friends tight for a tick, he released the pressure with a fond smile on his lips "Thanks. I'm really happy you guys came with me. I know Keith's become a big part of my life, but I love you guys. I couldn't have made it this far without you. I hope you know that" Lucteal let out a scoff "I don't know that I did that much... it's not as if we've seen a lot of action of late" "Electric, my man. You're the best second in command I could ask for. I know things are all different now, but I know you've got my back, ya know? Plus, you've got that awesome staff of yours now. I might be dating Keith, but he doesn't need to know everything I get up to" "You still want me in your crew?"

Tilting his head, Lance stared at Lucteal "Why would you say that?" "Because Keith is much better at..." "La la la la. Ima pretend you didn't even go there. He's got his own job and stuff to do. Besides, he gets all frowny over our idea of fun. We managed before he came walking back in, and we'll manage when we head back out. Because of you, and because of Dae here. It's our job to have fun, and Daehra's to patch us back together" Daehra sighed in clear annoyance "I would not need to if you were simply careful, to begin with. Plus, you promised Keith you wouldn't take unnecessary risks" "There are some risks that can't be mitigated, no matter what you do. I'm serious though guys, I couldn't have come home without my team. I'm so proud of you" Lucteal huffed "We know, you idiot. We can feel your emotions. They were..." "Lucteal!"

Cutting her brother off, Daehra leaned forward to glare at him "They were what?" Continuing to glare, Daehra shook her head "It doesn't matter" Now he was kind of hurt. Both empaths picking up on it. As her expression softened, Lucteal took that as permission to continue "They were so strong last night that even though we were in our quarters, we picked up on it" Lance blushed hard "This is why we shouldn't have mentioned it. Lucteal cannot keep his mouth shut" "Oh, like you didn't feel it too" "They're in love!" "They're more than in love. It's like they complete each other. It's depressing how much of the same wavelength they're on" "I think it's sweet. Keith is a very nice man. Sometimes he is hard to read, but he loves you fiercely"

Lance snorted at Daehra. Sometimes? Was she serious? Lance would pay to know what was going through his husband's head. He had no idea why he hadn't run while he still had the chance. Why he'd turned up at the outpost after chasing something like him. He wasn't ever really sure he'd understand why Keith had taken everything done to him so personally. Or why he'd decided he was going to step up and fix up the mess Klearo had made of him. Being Leandro was still far easier than being Lance who'd been abused and tosses aside. But the love of Keith was making Lance worth being Lance.

"Sometimes? You should have seen him before. Seriously. He always looked emotionally constipated. He'd get mad when he couldn't find the right words and heaven help you if you said something about Shiro" Nudging Daehra, she smiled at him "They are very close" "Keith pushed himself to the edge of madness to save him... You probably know why he left earlier..." It was wrong and rude to ask his friends what their powers were picking up, yet he had to know it wasn't because of him "He felt overwhelmed. I do believe you should have been the one to go after him, instead of Silver Fox Shiro" "I suppose he's alright for a half-Galra. More emotional than I thought he'd be. I still think he touches you too much. He doesn't pick your panic up as we do... though sometimes it seems you haven't noticed it either" Wasn't that a good thing? If he wasn't noticing he was panicking because he was still able to function? "Sorry guys. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how deep your powers run. But I love you both. I hope you know it. Feel it... sense it" Making wiggly fingers towards Daehra, she shoved at him with a giggle "We do" "Good. I know we met under pretty awful conditions, but I'm still really happy we met. I can't believe how long it was..." "It's been over an Earth year, right?" "Yep. One of the worst and best years of my life. This time next year, we'll have our outpost all set up. You'll have your own nursing staff. Lucteal will be training all the staff. Zak will be blowing stuff up with Tobias... Keith's going to be off doing all sorts of Blade things... It feels good" "Lance, do you really think I could have my own staff?" Rolling his eyes at her, Lance couldn't believe she'd even question it "Of course I do. You're a member of my team! That makes you like a million times more qualified than I know how to describe" "I do not know about that" "You guys can feel it, right? The faith I have in both of you? You're special to me. And when we move out to the outpost, I'm going to be relying on you to keep my head on straight"

Plucking at a stray blade of grass, Lucteal sighed heavily "Hear that Daehra? It sounds to me like he's actually going to listen to us for a change" "That is what I heard. I also heard him promise not to get into any more trouble and that we'll be able to take vacation time whenever we want" Throwing up his hands in mock offence, the smile on his lips was genuine "Is this not a good enough vacation? And you had done time on Altea. Plus Coran gave you all new toys and programs to play with. I thought I was doing better as a boss?" "Not a boss, but our friend. It has been nice seeing your planet" "You guys have only seen a tiny bit. On New Years we're going to have this huge party down at the beach. There's going to be firecrackers and Bonfires. You guys can go swimming... then I was thinking about taking you out to see where we found the Blue lion. Keith used to live out there on his own, in this tiny little shack. There's like a whole lot of nothing out there. Nothing like this..." "This is nice" Lance nodded, dropping back from the group hug to stare up at the clear sky "Yeah. And it's even better here with you"

* Staying up on the hill, they headed back down once Krolia's small pod landed down near the two ships and Shiro's pod. His mother-in-law already deep in conversation with Shiro and Keith as the trio approached. Kosmo was clearly happy over her arrival, his tail going flat out as he tried and failed miserably at getting krolia's attention. Not wanting to intrude, Lance tried to make his way over to the house, only to be spotted by Shiro. Waving both arms above his head and calling his name, it was kind of impossible to ignore the man.

Propelled forward by Daehra, Lance's feet dragged as he forced himself to walk over to the group. Shiro and Keith had obviously had a lot to talk about, they'd overshot the simply lunch and present exchange that Shiro and Curtis were going to stay for. He felt as if he really shouldn't be intruding on the conversation, Keith and Krolia were both smiling and laughing, without him. He didn't want to ruin the mood. He didn't want to risk saying the wrong thing. That would be the cherry on top of his less than stellar performance earlier.

Reaching the group, Lance hung his head as Kosmo came over for pats. Squatting down to shower him in attention, he didn't have to look anyone in the eyes. The nerves that had started as bubbling butterflies in his stomach now had it rolling. They hadn't exactly told Krolia they'd married. Her son was married to something dirty and weak like him. She might have been alright with him when they were dating but now... they were married. If she didn't approve, he'd have to say goodbye to Keith. He'd never make his husband choose between him and someone as important as his mother. Burying his face against Kosmo's neck, he nuzzled into his soft fur. He'd bought Kosmo a new collar for Christmas. The space wolf deserving of a little razzle-dazzle with his dark blue leather collar and name proudly studded in a white gold finish "Lance, Shiro asked you a question" Flinching at Keith's worried tone, Lance forced his face to go neutral as he looked up "Sorry, Shiro. I missed my puppa" "It's alright, kiddo. I was asking if you wanted to join us for New Years? You don't have to make your mind up right away, and naturally, the invitation is for all of you" No. No. He had plans for the New Year. He had plans to show Keith how his family celebrated, and how his town all came together. He wanted to set off fireworks and play volleyball with the kids, maybe even give Keith a surfing lesson or get Marco to so he didn't have to go into the water "Sure. I'll talk to my team about it. I was just telling them how they'd barely seen any of Earth" "Sounds good. It's about time for Curtis and me to be heading off. Krolia, why don't I show you inside?"

Raising an eyebrow, Krolia blatantly ignored Shiro's hint that Keith wanted to talk to him. It was either that Keith wanted to talk to him, or Shiro wanted Keith to talk to him. He was too awash with nerves to know which was up right about now, let alone who was hinting what and what he was magically supposed to do about it "Don't I get to greet my son-in-law?" "Muuuum" Drawing the name out, Keith sounded annoyed "My boy got married without me, I'm allowed to tease both of you. It's my job" "I'm sorry..." It was the only thing he could offer... He'd married Keith behind her back. Biting his bottom lip, Lance wished he hadn't come down from the hill. He'd been happy up there with Daehra and Lucteal. He'd missed spending one on one time with them "Mum, you're not allowed to tease my husband. We got married by accident"

Scolding his mother, Keith added to his guilt. If Keith hadn't come after him on his self gifted mission to "fix him", then they'd never have been married. Lance didn't regret being married to Keith, and no matter what grand wedding plans he'd once had, the way they'd wed was very them "That's what makes this all so interesting. And if anything, I should be apologising to you, Lance, for how dopey my son can be" "No. No. You don't need to apologise. I mean... it's all my fault... If Keith..." "Keith is right here. Mum, stop teasing him. Lance, don't let her get to you. She's happy for us. She said so before you came back" "But, dude, she's like your mum... and we didn't tell her"

Looking back at Kosmo, Lance missed the glances the three above him shared. He'd always worn his heart on his sleeve, his emotions easily read despite the expression on his face "Lance, I'm relieved you and Keith have such a strong relationship. He's honestly been in love for you so long I began to think he'd never marry. There are far worse people Keith could have married. Besides, the both of you aren't nearly as covert as you think. I knew back on Daibazaal, I simply didn't have the reason to tease you like I do now. It's huge intergalactic news" Krolia didn't sound mad, more amused. And she'd known that long? So much had happened he couldn't keep track of it clearly anymore "You're not mad? I mean... you know what happened..." Stepping around Shiro, Keith stood by his side "Great going mum, you've gone and upset him" "I didn't mean to upset him. I simply wanted to tease my two boys. Three boys if you include Shiro. Lance, you know I think no less of you. You have always been brave, and strong. Now, why don't we find Curtis? You two have plans, and Keith and I were planning on visiting his father's grave. Lance, you're welcome to join us" "It's ok... it's Christmas, you guys should spend some time together. I was going to tell Keith he should take a few vargas and go chill. My family is pretty much chaos personified. Veronica's probably got everyone whipped into shape inside. Her and Acxa are like the best power couple ever"

He was rambling. He could hear himself rambling. Keith always said he rambled when he was tired... He didn't feel as tired as he had, but that might have been the adrenaline from his nerves "Babe..." "It's ok, Keith. Do you want me to keep Kosmo here?" "Babe..." "I don't mind..." "Lance!" Flinching, Lance let Kosmo go. Krolia wasn't mad. Shiro wasn't mad. Keith wasn't mad. It was all in his head... "Keith, don't yell at Lance like that" Scolding him, Lance swore he could feel the pout on Keith's lips he knew would be there because of Krolia "I'm trying to ask him to come with us, but you're making him all upset. I already told you he had a panic attack this afternoon and not to tease him" So they'd talked about him. He should have expected as much... He wondered if Erathus celebrated Christmas with a holiday. He doubted they would, given how built up it was "It's fine... I've got to make a call this afternoon. So you guys go ahead. We're still here for another week and a half" "You need to make a call? On Christmas Day?" He'd said the wrong thing. Keith sounded annoyed. All he wanted was to step back and give Keith space to breathe. He'd been overwhelmed opening presents, probably forced to remember things he wished to forget. He was trying to politely give him an out. Keith was his husband, not his property. He had no right to tell Keith what he could and couldn't do, especially when he felt Keith and Krolia should go there alone together "Yeah. It could take a while. We just came down to make sure someone knew Krolia was here..."

Placing his hand on his shoulder, Keith's grip felt weird "Babe, you're part of our family too. You're not in the way... and I thought you wanted to meet dad too" "It's not that I don't want to. I just thought it might be nice for you and your mum to spend some time together. It's not like either of you come to Earth all that often, and my family is hands-on..." There was a long pause before Keith cleared his throat "Alright. Mum, come meet the rest of the family... Jorge and Miriam are nice. Everyone here's been really nice... They've all made me feel like part of the family" "I wouldn't expect anything less from Lance's family. They raised a wonderful young man. Lance, I look forward to talking with you more over dinner" "Uh... um, you too. I'm sorry we didn't tell you. There's been a lot going on" "I'm not mad at you. We all know what's been going on. I'm happy for you both"

Pity. It surely had to be pity. Forcing himself to stand, Lance, caught Shiro by the jacket as the group went to head for the house. Catching a curious glance from Keith, Shiro waved him off to leave the pair of them standing there. Keith and Shiro had always communicated on a level deeper than words... yet part of him had wanted Keith to question why Lance was reaching out for Shiro instead of him "Lance?" "How... how badly did I fucked up?" "What do you mean?" "I... mean I want the best for Keith, but my head's been all over the place today. The moment I saw Krolia I wanted to run. I wanted to run from my mother-in-law. I couldn't even look at her... I keep feeling that... that Keith could have done better than me. She's his mum. I have my whole family but he only has her by blood... I don't want to come between them... I'm not a very good person... and if she... if she sees the real me... then I'm going to have to say goodbye to Keith. I only want what's best for him... that's why... that's why I thought it would be good for him to spend some time alone with Krolia. He's barely had a moments peace since we got here... The aunts were mean as hell over him... I want him to be happy"

Pulling Lance into a tight hug, Shiro was careful not to touch his hair "You didn't mess up. Krolia loves you like a son as it is" "But my past..." "Doesn't matter to those who love you. Keith loves you. Krolia doesn't think you're weak at all. She admires your strength" "Are you sure it wasn't pity" "I don't think Krolia is one for pity. And I don't blame you for wanting to run. She scares me too at times" "I don't want to be like this..." "I know you don't. I thought you wanted to ask me about Keith" Lance shook his head. If his husband didn't want to tell him, then he'd have to swallow that down "I want to ask him about that... but only when he's ready... I think I'm going to call my therapist... I think I want to, but I don't know" "Before you do, you should know Keith was upset because he felt the gift he got you didn't measure up. Adam and I... would try, but we didn't know what we were doing, so he ended up doing the same things we would. He wasn't sure how to handle all the attention. He didn't expect anything more than the game console" Hadn't he just said he wanted to hear it from Keith? "I know I can't take those memories and pain from him, but I wanted to show him that I want to understand... I feel like this whole day went sideways when we got out of bed" "It hasn't. You haven't done anything wrong. I understand what you tried to tell Keith. You're right, you know. He and Krolia rarely visit Earth" "Exactly... I think I just hurt his feelings. I really... I don't want to come between him and his mum" "No, you didn't. Talk to him when they come back for dinner. He loves you. He warned Krolia not to pick on you because he wanted you to have a good Christmas. He was worried she'd make you cry, or cause another attack" "Too late..." "I think you handled your emotions quite well. Now, what do you want to do? Do you want to head back into the house, or down to the tent?" "It's a marquee and I'd rather not. The extended family isn't that fond of me. I'm going to head up to my room on the Telula and call my therapist... if I go back in there now, Daehra and Lucteal are going to know something's up" "Alright. Hey, Lance. One last thing, Merry Christmas" Hugging Shiro tightly, Lance sniffled "Merry Christmas Space Dad. Thank you for coming... even if I'm mental" "You're no more mental than I am. I'll see you at New Years, right?" "Maybe" "There's no pressure. I know it's pretty late to ask" "It's ok. I'll think about it" "That's all I can ask"

[youmeansammy]

You Bring Trouble: Chapter 3.

-Trigger warnings: Cursing, drinking, violence, hint of drugs, hint of sexual assault (Dallas arrives before anything serious happens so no worries).

You climbed over the chain link fence. It was just as Dallas had shown you two years ago, that was the first time he had invited you to the Drive-In. You had known each other longer than two years, but Dal never took much notice of you until that point. It wasn't something you had taken personally since Dallas had come from the hard streets of New York.

Who could trust anyone after dealing with the crimes and gangs of a big city?

 You didn't feel anything for Dal at that point. The only information you had learned about him was Ponyboy saying he was more trouble than any guy in Tulsa, which was a bold claim to make. Now that you know Dallas, you can't say confidently Ponyboy that was wrong.

 Although, that night you sure felt alive around Dallas. He talked more than you had heard in the years of you visiting the Curtis family, and boy, it was thrilling. He was interested in your life before Tulsa, although he didn't ask at first because as he said “You don't go digging in somebody's business that they don't want you in,” but thankfully Johnny was there and brought up an opening of the conversation.

 It was asked some, but you didn't say a lot about your family that night, all you could bear to mention was your mom left after a month of having you and pops was locked up. After that, you told stories about people you use to hang out with and places around your (state/country) that you liked.

 The vibe of the night was something else. It felt as you had no worries. Tonight, you wanted to feel that again, no worries. It reminds you of greasers you know regularly telling you to get buzzed to take the edge off, but you tend to think how much that helped uncle Jerry. Though you’d never speak of it out loud to anybody, it's just something you laugh off and move on.

 It's not that you haven't had a drink before, you had your moments of stupidly stumbling your way home after a night at places like Bucks. The fun of it ran cold after a few months of it all. Well, that and the fact it almost got you killed by a pair of socs.

 You were staggering home after a night of drinking at this bar named Cherry's Knot. The place was sure trashy just like the name, but hey, that's why they let underage kids drink there. You happened to be a few blocks down from your street when a car pulled up behind you, that's when two guys started to harass you. You slurred a hell of a lot of curses and insults, but they laughed it up since you were too drunk to walk at a decent pace. There was a point where they were dragging you into the car. It was like you gave up because, at that point, you weren't putting up a struggle for the two creeps. They could've taken you if it wasn't for Darry Curtis saving the day like he was some Superman. His truck came flooring down the road once he turned the corner and saw the view in front of him, you jolted back to reality when you heard the truck screech as the brakes slammed hard.

He came out of the truck with the look of someone that could kill. It could raise the hair on anyone's neck. It was all very foggy for you, but you swore he broke one of their noses that night. You don't remember much of it, but you do remember waking up on the Curtis couch for the first time. That was also the first time Darry lectured you, but you weren't mad about it. You just needed someone to care at the time. It sure showed when Darry was fuming about the stupid choices you made that night, which was weird because that was the first time Darry had any heartfelt talk with you in general. He had heys and how are yous, simple stuff, but he was a busy man since the Curtis parents had just passed. Once Darry got quiet after his rambling, you did something that you two both needed at that moment. You just hugged him and it was a silent moment for you both. You never talked about any of this with anyone.

 Now that you had arrived at the Nightly Double Drive-In, you didn't care to watch a movie. It was more of just hoping you saw someone familiar enough to have a conversation with, catch up with some of the greasers who hang around here.

You walked into the movie snack shack and followed the line to grab a coke.

 “Well, why don't I buy that for you?” The boy in front of you said with a sleazy look on his face.

 “Because you can't buy my time like a hooker on the corner, now get lost.” You said coolly before taking a sip of your coke.

 “Whatever tramp,” You watched as he threw change at the employee behind the cash register before storming his way off.

 “I admire a woman that can deal with these hoods,” The boy behind you spoke. He had black hair slicked back with a simple white muscle shirt making his natural dark hair color pop.

 “Well, don't admire too long, I have a thirty-second policy.” You showed off a prideful smile before handing over the change for the Coke.

 “What happens after the thirty-seconds?” He followed you outside the snack shack, his voice oozing with amusement.

 “I don't know, but I can say you don't see any guys around to tell you either,” You jokingly warned.

 “You're something else babe, what's your name?”

 “(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N),”

 “Nice name, I'm Ronny,”

 You mumbled thanks towards him before sipping your Coke; you couldn't help but notice him tagging along beside you. This kind of encounter was common for places like this. You always had to keep in mind that most of these men wanted to get in your pants, you couldn't lie, you enjoyed the attention as long as it didn't go too far.

 “How does this sound, you come to join me and my friends behind the sheds?”

 It was not a surprising offer, Ronny was a hood after all. There were three sheds for storage at the Drive-In near the far side of the fence. It wasn't a place to watch the movie, but it became more of a hangout for rowdy hoods. It got to the point that management put old picnic tables out there just to produce more business from the poor suckers of the wrong side of town.

 Nonetheless, you followed Ronny towards the shed and found his group of friends. There was a couple essentially swallowing each other's face on one side of the bench, and the rest of the three were a bunch of guys bickering about some woman named Stacy.

 “Hey, idiots, shut up for a second why dontcha.”

 “Who's the broad?” A blonde one with too long of hair spoke with his eyebrows scrunched.

 “(Y/N), I met her in the shack. She's cool guys, no sweat,”

 “I'm Gary, here have a seat,” You looked him over for a moment. He had green eyes, a chiseled jawline, brown hair, and overall good looks. He looked less sleazy than Ronny, which made you feel more at ease about sitting next to him, so you did.

 “You from around here?” He said before taking a sip of some cheap beer bottle.

 You shook your head before saying the name of your (state/country).

 “You don't say, must be a big change from Tulsa.”

 You had sat with the boys for a while now, the five of you talking about different pointless things like cars, schools, socs, and people you knew. The couple from earlier had left after fifteen minutes of you joining the table. It was clear they had other concerns in mind.

 “I'm telling you, she's using me for the free fries,” The blonde one muttered before throwing his bottle cap across the grass attempting to hit a tree.  

 You didn't have time to say anything before you felt a rough hand slide up your skirt. It all felt as if it was happening so slowly, yet, it was happening all too fast. You screamed out and shoved Gary away from you hard, quickly getting up from the picnic table.

The three greasers looked slightly confused between you and Gary, although not entirely as surprised as you were.

 “Is there a problem?” Gary asked before standing up and stalking his way over towards you, causing you to back up in response.

 “Yeah, yeah there is a fucking problem. You tried to feel me up with your dirty hood hands, that's the problem.”

 “Come on broad you know you liked it,”

 “What the hell gave you that idea? I don't like anything about you because there's nothing to like.” You snapped back.

 You felt yourself bump into the wooden shed and a rush of dread went through your body. You looked at him before deciding to make a run for it, but maybe he wasn't as stupid as he looks because he slammed his hand on the shed blocking you in between him.

“Get away from me,” You pushed him hard, but he was built like a rock. Well, he was drunk, so he seemed like a rock.

“Let's go to my car, come on sweetheart,” He was smug in his words, his two arms blocking you against the shed being close enough for you to feel his breath against your face. It reeked of beer.

 “I said get off of me, you stupid fucker,” The other day had taught you a valuable lesson, never forget your knife. You gulped hard and without much thought from the pure rush of fear; you pulled out the blade from your jacket and stabbed him once good in the stomach.

 He stared at you, and his eyes had grown large. He groaned out in pain before grabbing you by the neck and throwing you to the ground. You shrieked before scrambling to get up, your feet finally cooperating with you.

 You rushed past the shed building before a man knocked you to the ground, this time it was Ronny. He grasped the blade from your hand and threw it as far as he could.

 "Get the fuck off of me! Get the fuck off of me!" Your fist connecting with the side of his head, you struggled to fight his hands that tried stopping you from continuing to strike the side of his face.

“Will you calm the fuck down.” He barked out aggressively.

 “Son of a bitch,” A familiar voice called out full of anger. You felt someone pull Ronny off of you and it felt as you could breathe again. You didn't realize that you had been crying throughout this whole event, but your face was covered in dirt and tears. It wasn't your most attractive moment in life. You watched in horror as Dallas beat the hell out of Ronny. It wasn't the fact that he was striking Ronny, it was how angry Dallas looked in this second. That was the real horror.

 "Kid, we need to get outta here," Dal spoke before grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. The world appeared somewhat blurry after you saw blood on Dally's hands. You had watched Dallas fight plenty of times, to the point you lost count, but this wasn't just roughing someone up. This time it was intense, it had spoken a message.

“Dally, is he alive?" You stuttered out the words to the point you hardly could get them out.

 “What's it matter,” his voice was cold as he pulled you along with him towards the chain-link fence to bail the scene.

 “Dally,” your voice broke as you started sobbing.

 “Yes, he's alive. I didn't kill him, I should've though.”

He rushed you over the fence before pulling himself over. The two of you heading in the opposite direction of the town and toward the nearby neighborhoods. It made you recognize that Dallas Winston has bailed more crime scenes in his life than the local Tulsa police have arrived at in their careers. He stirred up trouble because he loved the trouble.

 The world around you was shattering. It was a feeling that had passed overwhelmed, it was indescribable.

 “Dallas, I'm going to go to jail, I stabbed one of them!” You grabbed him by his arm to stop him from stepping any further. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts, breathe, and face everything that was happening.

 “Alright, calm down kid, you're not looking too good.” He cleared his throat as he took in your surroundings. The two of you reached a solid way off from the Drive-In, but it wasn't enough to make each of you comfortable.

 “Do you think you killed him?” Dallas said without much emotion. The question and response took you off guard. You knew that Dallas had seen and done a lot in his life, but how could he remain so calm? Did Dallas deal with this before or was Dal just this fearless of a guy?

 “I don't know... It was only a single strike to the stomach. He seemed more pissed than anything,”

 “Who was it anyway?”

 “Some hood, Gary Davis.”

 “I wouldn't stress it, that guy is always coked up or selling it. If he lives, he won't report you for that reason alone.” He replied before removing a cig from his pocket and handing it over.

 “Dal, I don't smoke, you know that.”

 “Sure looks like you should start tonight,”

 You rolled your eyes before stuffing the cancer stick in your jacket pocket. Dallas had lighted his own as he started walking down the street again, this was your hint that time was up.

 “Where are we going?” You asked as you followed close behind him, he looked attractive smoking his cigarette after a fight. You always kind of liked watching him de-stress after getting into it with somebody. He was rough, tough, and mean. It made you admire him.

 “I'm taking you home,” He replied as smoke escaped from his lips as he spoke. You could catch it in the street lights. Dallas Winston was quite the sight when you least expected it.

 “No!” You said quick. You just dealt with someone trying to attack you, if you went home now after leaving Jerry full of anger, you wouldn't be able to win that fight. “I don't want to go home,”

 “Well, where do you wanna go man?” He stopped and studied you over. It made you feel uneasy knowing he was taking a good look at you, what if he didn't like what he saw. Hell, you realized how much a mess you must've looked after rolling around in the dirt with Ronny.

 “I-,” You raised the sleeves of your jacket in an attempt to clean off your face, hoping it did you at least some justice. You felt two hands cup around your wrists lowering them before you watched Dallas raise his own hands to your face.

“Here,” He gently rubbed the palms of his hands against your skin rubbing away the dirt from your face. The two of you stared in each other's eyes for a moment. Neither of you said a word. You could only wonder if his heartbeat was pounding as hard as yours in this second. He didn't look so mean at this moment. He looked lovable. How many thought about Dally that way? It sure didn't seem like many.

 “Wherever you go, Dal. That is if you don't mind it,”

 "I don't mind it doll,"

Authors note: I know this chapter was kind of intense. I want to include some intense chapters throughout this series because I feel it resembles the story of The Outsiders to some level. Not everyone is a bad person at heart, but not everyone is a good one either. It also resembles that sometimes shit hits the fan in life. I hope you guys won’t mind. Plus what’s a story without some drama?

Anyway, send me feedback lovelies.

Taglist:  @smilexcaptainx @dxloverpunk @r-e-d--m-i-s-t--m-o-n-s-t-e-r-s @parkerspicedlatte

#Dallas Winston #dally winston #The Outsiders #the outsiders dallas #the outsiders dally #the outsiders dallas winston #dallas winston fanfiction #dallas winston fanfic #matt dillon #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders fandom #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston x you #greaser #socs #darry curtis #the outsiders darry #dallas winston hc

[changesxnight]

1-50 Steve Randle for the the excessively detailed headcanons

What does their bedroom look like?- messy as hell- he never makes his bed - his desk is the only thing that’s organized because that’s where he does homework

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?- playing football with the gang is his favorite - the gang just does athleticy things at least twice a week- any day that it’s sunny, they’ll go out and do something

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?- the kitchen is never busy at his house - but if somehow his father was making dinner for himself of course, cause fuck Steve, Steve would just go out to eat or to the Curtises’ house

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.) - the office at the DX is a mess, no thanks to Soda- so he tries to clean it up- he’s usually a tidy guy but laziness overpowers his will to clean - there’s a method to his madness - for example, his clothes aren’t in his closet but rather on a chair in his room but he’s meticulous about where the groceries and dishes go  

Eating habits and sample daily menu- he eats when he’s hungry - which is all the fucking time - he loves burgers and fries - will never admit how much he loves milkshakes

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time- he loves to go bowling with Dallas- and play pool. they’re both amazing at the game - if he’s not blowing off smoke with Soda, he’s messing around with Two-Bit and/or Dallas

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging - milkshakes - he doesn’t care about indulging. he works too damn hard to not treat himself well

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?- he lives with Dick Randle - what do you think - Evie thinks he’s mentally ill but he doesn’t wanna hear it - “I already knows there’s something wrong with me” “Steve, that’s not what I said!” “but it’s what you meant, isn’t it?” - half the gang is traumatized by their parents’ actions can you guess which three

Intellectual pursuits?- he wanted to join the math club but didn’t cause the gang would never let him hear the end of it- could totally go to college but didn’t have the money - he’s insanely smart and would win the spelling bee or geography bee if he wasn’t so ashamed of being smart - he’s a genius. but he’s a greaser. those two things shouldn’t go together, as his father would tell him. so Steve’s always kept his intelligence a secret - teachers hate this though because he’ll get As on his homework and then randomly choose answers on the test and end up with a C

Favorite book genre?- he loves to read, surprise surprise - like Soda has almost caught him with a book at the DX a million times - like now, Steve just reads with the owner’s manual in front so it looks like he’s reading about cars - Soda’s like “hey buddy…what ya doin’? you know everything about cars, more than I do.”- he prefers non-fiction or really old stories - Mythology and lore are his favorites

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?- a closeted bisexual - he doesn’t have a problem with anyone who doesn’t cause him harm so if someone’s gay and a decent human being, he’s fine with them

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.) - his nose is chronically broken - he’s allergic to crying, jerks and bullshit

Biggest and smallest short term goal?- biggest: win a game of chess against Ponyboy because the cocky son of a bitch…- smallest: doing inventory. it’s so boring

Biggest and smallest long term goal?- biggest: own his own auto body shop. or marry Evie - smallest: get through high school. it’s easy but it’s taking forever. senior year sucks  

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress- clad in denim 24/7- if he’s not in jeans, he’s not Steve Randle - he doesn’t mind his uniform. he wears it proudly because he’s paid to do what he loves

Favorite beverage?- we all know he loves beer - but he also loves coffee

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?- he thinks of Evie and of his mother. would they’ve gotten along? of course they would’ve. would Dad be a different man if Lily died and Mom lived? what would life be like with his sister? what would life be like with his mom? - the “what if"s torture him

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?- if he got sick, his father wouldn’t take care of him - so he tried his damnedest to not get sick- he’d get colds on purpose cause he knew he could defeat them- but let’s say strep throats was going around school. he’d avoid everyone like the plague. he doesn’t have that kinda money to buy antibiotics

Turn-ons? Turn-offs?- turn ons: confidence, standing up for what you believe in, musicians, just Evelyn Green in general… - turn offs: nothing this horndog will find anything sexy

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?- he’d probably start doodling - or write a love letter to Evie because he loves her more than words can say. xxx ooo xxx

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?- he’s actually very organized- he couldn’t stand a mess but he got used to messiness since Soda can’t keep anything in one place

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?- he loves history - he’s amazing at math shh don’t tell anyone - and of course, English class

How do they see themselves 5 years from today?- at 17, he wants to be married to Evie by 25. she’s the love of his life - again, he wants to have his own auto body repair shop that he shares with Soda- he wants to be stable and away from his father. maybe even emancipated from his dad

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?- marry Evie - open up his own auto repair shop- have a family and be a good dad- be financially stable - die happy

What is their biggest regret?- after years of his father convincing him he killed his sister, he regrets that- as he gets older, he regrets not applying himself in school- he’s very smart and pays attention. he does his homework but never hands it in. he aces his tests but because he doesn’t do his homework, he averages out with a C

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?- Soda is clearly his best friend- aside from him, I think Two is his other best friend - he’s his own worst enemy

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)- if Evie is there, he gets her out - if a dog is there, he gets them out - if Ponyboy is there, he gets them out - basically, he makes sure that everyone is safe before he worries about himself

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)- numbness and drinking to keep the numb feeling - he just loses it - angry and fighting - he can’t process his emotions

Most prized possession?- either his switchblade or his car

Thoughts on material possessions in general?- he’s not very religious so he doesn’t have that “why gain the whole world and lose your soul” mentality- he’d love to be rich. never have to worry about money or paying bills or anything - he isn’t a hoarder but he definitely has possessions he couldn’t live without and doesn’t see any harm in it

Concept of home and family? - if it weren’t for the gang and Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, he wouldn’t know what family is - Evie is where he feels at home

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)- with Soda or Dallas or Two, he gives too much information - around people he doesn’t fully trust, he barely gives any information out at all

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?- like Dallas, he loves to bowl and play pool- he considers homework a waste of time so he doesn’t do it - he doesn’t consider reading a waste of time, per se, but he loves it and won’t ever admit it

What makes them feel guilty?- thinking about his mother and sister- it’s my fault. I fucked up. I didn’t protect them. - his father is an evil, twisted man that can’t take responsibility and now Steve is more mentally fucked up than anyone could ever believe

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?- he tries to be analytical, thinking of Soda, Evie and the rest of the gang - he doesn’t do anything too stupid because he doesn’t want to die - but sometimes he’s impulsive and does what he wants in the moment

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality? - type a- he takes his work very seriously, whether it’s for school or auto body repairs - he’s an organized leader, when given the chance - feels and fights violently and aggressively  

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?- sex- coffee - hot showers

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?- well after a lifetime of being told he’s a murderer, Steve hates himself - but he also hates his father - he hates being oppressed by Socs and wants to fight back (and does)

How misanthropic are they? - he only truly hates his father and Socs

Hobbies?- aside from cars cause that isn’t all Steve does - he’s on the football team - he loves to go fishing and bowling with Dallas - badass at pool, taught by Dallas Winston himself - pulling pranks with Soda is the best - he’s a champ at beer pong

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?- he loves going to school and he loves to learn. but he hates the peer pressure, he hates the stress and he hates the judgement - he’s learned a lot on his own and from his friends; he has to, he’s a greaser.

Religion?- introduced to Christianity by the Curtises - but after Mom and Dad 2 died, he’s been losing his faith - now he’s just angry at God and doesn’t know what to do- and when he reads the Old Testament, it seems like there isn’t a single thing he and God can agree on

Superstitions or views on the occult?- claims he’s not superstitious but totally is - except he picks and chooses which he follows and when it’s convenient - stays away from black cats but walks under ladders like it’s no big deal

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?- deeds, for sure- when it comes to the people he loves, especially Evie, he can’t form a coherent sentence while making eye contact - so he writes what he truly means - and shows how he feels through actions

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?- a hardworking, loving woman. he wants someone who’s earned what they have and they stand up for themselves. a woman who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty or her voice heard. someone who isn’t too dependent or easily offended. a strong woman who’s been through some shit and is understanding- so Evelyn Rose Green

How do they express love?- aggressively and passionately - he’ll take Evie out on random dates, either it’s a romantic candle lit dinner at his place or just stare gazing in the back of his truck - he writes the most beautiful love letters - when he’s scared, he’ll try to act tougher. so when he senses danger, his grip on Evie’s hand gets tighter

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?- he’s always fighting, let’s be honest - it’s the only way he’ll feel anything

- he’s an honest greaser and he fights fair- but he always wins - fighting gives him this kinda rush that just can’t be replaced - he’s stealthy and always makes sure that he knows the terrain and uses it to his advantage - he likes to get hyped up before a fight but not so that his senses are outta wack

Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not? - he’s only afraid of dying because he’s got people to take care of - but he also knows that getting into a serious fight could end fatally- so he’s smart with who he fights and who he keeps his mouth shut around

#finally posting these after forever I see #why are you up at a quarter to one #you got places to be tomorrow morning #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders #steve randle #steve randle headcanons #my hcs #mine #excessively detailed headcanons

[jbuffyangel]

Against The Ropes: Arrow 6x02 Review (Tribute)

Arrow delivers another strong episode with “Tribute.” We are on a roll! As I've said, I enjoy Oliver most when he’s up against the ropes and punching his way out. In “Tribute” Oliver is fighting against three heavy weights: Samandra, William and Anatoly. He’s not the only one backed into a corner though. John Diggle is too.

Let’s dig in...

Oliver Queen

Oliver doesn’t always have to punch his way out of a problem. He is an intelligent man with a knack for strategic thinking. The photo of Oliver as the Green Arrow puts him in that frame of mind, which is always enjoyable to watch. He also needs a worthy advisary for this cat and mouse game to be any fun, which is what Agent Watson (FBI!!!!!) brings to the table.

However, I don't think Oliver anticipated the emotional fallout from this photograph. It leads to some very interesting conversations with William, and if you can believe it, Rene. By adding William to the mix, "Tribute" suddenly becomes more about Oliver protecting his son from the consequences of being the Green Arrow rather than himself.

Source: olivergifs 

Oliver handles the press with all the schmooze and charm of Tony Stark, but this is DC and not Marvel. We aren't dropping that name. No sir. There are rules about that.

Source:queensarrow

Everybody knows what a huge Batman fan I am, so yes I absolutely squealed at the mention of the Caped Crusader,

but now Arrow opened the door. The image of Bruce Wayne hanging out in Star City, drinking a beer with Oliver while talking dead parents and vigilante-ing is one I so desperately need.

All wishful thinking aside, Oliver's point (and Stephen's line) have a logical point. Any photo can be doctored. A photo doesn't prove anything. Unless the photo actually does prove something, such as this, but that's just details. Keep on dancing Oliver!

Agent Watson is not buying Oliver's charm. She absolutely believes he is the Green Arrow. I mean... the scruff and handsome cleft chin are evidence enough.

The dodge and weave is something that's been missing since Quentin discovered Oliver's identity. These scenes with Watson feel very reminiscent of Season 1. I also appreciate that Arrow didn't ignore the history between Quentin and Oliver. There is no emotional baggage with Watson like there was with Lance. Quentin's rage over Sara certainly put Oliver in his crosshairs, but Watson isn't Lance. There's no messy history with Oliver. It makes her investigation simpler. This is just about the Green Arrow. 

Source:queensarrow

Things come to a head when Watson wants to start issuing subpoenas - including one for William. It leads to an interesting confrontation with Oliver. In Season 1, Oliver would have pretended to be the lazy, playboy, billionaire's son. A man too stupid and too selfish to be The Hood.

Source @olliequeengifs​

Oliver has to change his tactics because his public image has changed. 

Now, he's the mayor.  He's a man who cares deeply for his city, but does so within the confines of the law. Oliver comes dressed in a crispy grey suit. He is the perfect image of a law abiding citizen.  This "image" Oliver is presenting to Agent Watson is much closer to who Oliver Queen truly is. Yet, the charming slickness of the playboy remains. Only now Oliver isn't too stupid or selfish to save the city. He's simply too busy already saving it. During the day. As mayor.

Oliver tells Agent Watson he is an open book - except when it comes to William. Oliver is warm, accommodating and gracious. Until he's not.  

“If I really am the man you think I am, how far do you think such a man would go to keep his son from being scrutinized?”

It's a not so subtle threat. Oliver's voice starts off light, a charming little smile playing on his lips, but by the end his voice drops to that familiar lower octave. His smile disappears and he fixes a steely gaze on Agent Watson. He may be dressed as Oliver Queen, but the Green Arrow is in the room too. Neither the suit or the hood is playing.  Not when it comes to William. If there was ever a scene in which Oliver perfectly walks the tightrope of his two selves - this is it.

Source:  olivergifs

Proof that the photograph is doctored arises just in time (thanks Felicity and Curtis!). 

It takes care of the immediate Agent Watson problem, although not for good. However, this photograph unearthed some long latent fears within William. Fears that will not be solved with quick thinking tech.

William is beaten up by some much larger eighth graders who apparently lack cognitive thinking skills of any kind. At first Oliver is met with a stony silence when he presses William about what happened. (He gets that from you Oliver). Eventually William cracks though and tells Oliver what happened. 

Source: arrowsource

The older kids were teasing William about Oliver "not being there for him" and being the Green Arrow. 

Now, someone is gonna have to walk me around this logic bend cause... WTF? How is Oliver being the Green Arrow mean he's not there for William as his father? You know what? I'm just gonna stop. Bullies never make sense.

The first thing Oliver tells William is to go for the nose. 

Source: arrowsource

YEAH BABY! 

This is the Green Arrow parenting I want to see. Anytime anyone messes with my kid I want to tear their head off. We are sympatico Oliver.

Obviously, we want kids to work through their differences. No need to @ me about the importance of children working through their differences without violence.  It's also important for a child to defend themselves when being attacked, especially if you are Oliver Queen's son.  This is Oliver's world. We saw real parenting confidence in him for the first time. He knows how to handle these types of situations. Oliver teaching William strategy and how to throw a punch is equally as important as math homework in this world.

However, the physical challenges William are the easy problems. It's the emotional ones that are the humdingers for Oliver. William is angry with Oliver for ditching him in the limo to go Green Arrow.  Sometimes I want to punch The Flash too William. I RELATE KID.

Source: westallenolicitygifs

What a heartbreaking line. 

William has gone from a kid who believed so absolutely in the power of The Flash and the Green Arrow to save lives. However, when it mattered the most nobody could save his mother. Not even the Green Arrow.  It brings the much larger issues going on inside William to the surface.

Oliver: I will always come back.

William: Just like my mom?

He’s got ya there Oliver.

Most children do not worry about their parents dying. In their eyes we are invincible. We are immortal. Until we are not. Children only worry about their parents dying when they are given a reason to.

William has been given more than enough reasons to worry. His mother is dead and his father goes out, night after night, to fight the worst criminals the world has ever seen.  Samantha's death is enough to make William fear losing his father, even if Oliver was a mailman,

However, William shows real self awareness when he tells Oliver the fear he carries is worse because his father willfully throws himself into life or death situations. The circumstances surrounding Samantha's death were out of her control. William understands that on some level and that's scary enough. It’s different with Oliver. Every time he leaves the house William fears losing him. However, Oliver’s extracurricular activities magnify that fear ten fold and with good reason.

Oliver tries to reassure William that he has everything under control. That he can handle any bad guy thrown at him.

*whistling*

William: What if you can't? I'll be alone. I'll have nobody.

There it is. What I suspected William is truly afraid of because of course that's what he is afraid of.  William argues Oliver can't understand the fear and pain he carries, but he's wrong. Oliver does understand all too well. 

Source:olivergifs

The image William paints, the one of being all alone, is one his father has lived. Oliver is an orphan. Yes, he may have been older, but Oliver understands the pain and loneliness William feels and fears. He would do anything to protect William from it.

Oliver makes William a promise. However, it is William's response to it that is so astounding.

Source:  westallenolicitygifs

Oliver is not God. William knows his father is just trying to reassure him, but this promise is not in Oliver's control. Oliver cannot bend circumstances to his will. He is not invincible. He is not immortal. It's an inescapable truth that comes with losing a parent.

It leads to a beautiful scene with... RENE??? 

The description of 6x02 said Oliver goes to a surprising source for parenting advice and boy were they right.  Rene can be off putting and downright offensive, but he can also be really funny and gentle. It's in these softer moments with the character that I like him best. One of my chief complaints with Arrow is that, despite having a large cast, the same characters interact all the time. An emotional moment between these two characters is a nice change of pace from their usual sardonic banter.

Oliver: I’ve never lied to my kid before.

The truth is - William is right. Every time Oliver is in the field he may not come back. No one has to tell Oliver Queen about the risks of being the Green Arrow. He absolutely understands and accepts them.  If he wasn't willing to sacrifice his life then he wouldn't be out there in the first place.

The problem is Oliver is not only responsible for himself now.  In some ways, it's the same reasons Oliver feared being in a relationship with Felicity.

He didn't want her to be a target or put her life in danger. Life as the Green Arrow would always interfere with life as Oliver Queen. However, Felicity is a grown woman who can make her own decisions. She's also perfectly capable of taking care of herself. William is none of those things. For the first time, Oliver has someone who is truly dependent on him. So, the question becomes - what is Oliver willing to sacrifice for his child? What is he willing to do to make William feel safe and secure?

The first step is to only make William promises Oliver can keep. Rene is right. Little white lies are often a necessary parenting tool, but no parent can promise their child they'll always come home. Especially not to a child who lost a mother. When William lost his mother he lost his tether. Now he's just floating, listless and afraid. Oliver needs to give William a new tether.

Oliver admits he was wrong. Stephen Amell does such a wonderful job in this scene showing how much it physically pains Oliver to say those words, especially to his son.

Source:arrowsource

HA! Raisa giving William insider tips about Oliver is my lifeblood.

The first promise Oliver makes is:

“I am going to do everything in my power forever to make sure you don't end up in this world alone. I know you think that isn't up to me and that's a fair and smart point, which is why I think I've found so that maybe it can be.”

This promise contains some very interesting phrasing. On the surface it seems like Oliver is hanging up the hood, which by the end of the episode, is exactly what he does. However, the show is called Arrow. He's not hanging up the hood forever. So, how does Oliver keep this promise to William if he puts on the hood again?

I am going to do everything in my power forever to make sure you don't end up in this world alone.

The Season 6 theme is family. The family you are born into and the family you build.  Oliver built a family after he lost his parents. He combated the pain and loneliness with love and friendship. Some of that family includes blood, 

but a lot of it doesn't. 

He needs to combat the fear, pain and loneliness in William the same way - with love and friendship.  Oliver needs to build a family that extends beyond just the two of them. So, no matter what happens to Oliver, William knows he will always be loved, he will always be taken care of and he will never be alone.  The more Oliver folds William into the family he built the less fearful his son will be. Oliver can never replace William's mother, but he can help William find security in this new tether.

Now, don't go freaking out on me that Oliver Queen is going to die. That's not the point of this. This isn't foreshadowing of Oliver's death. I don’t belive that’s where we are headed. We danced that dance in Season 3. 

Oliver doesn't fear death. He fears life. The challenge of his hero's story is in living - not dying. However, Arrow has to address the dangers of vigilantism and the realities of parenting. Arrow is pushing Oliver down the road of a big and beautiful life. One filled with meaning, purpose, love, friends and children. I wonder what’s one way Oliver can expand his family. Hmmm...

But first, William must feel secure with his father before he's ready to expand beyond Oliver. So, this time away from the Green Arrow is incredibly important.

It is not forever though. Eventually, William will come to the decision every person who loves Oliver Queen arrives at. He will learn the Green Arrow is a vital part of who his father is and tell Oliver to suit up again. Essentially, William will join Team Arrow. Maybe he won't be out on the street fighting (not yet anyway), but there are other ways to help. For William, it will be sharing his father with the city. Is that a lot to ask of a ten year old boy? Yes, but that's the point. Selflessness often requires some kind of sacrifice. After all, William is Oliver Queen's son.

John Diggle

What happened to John on Lian Yu is finally revealed! 

Source: dctvpoc

Yes, he caught shrapnel in his shoulder. Yes, it caused nerve damage.  Plus 20 points to everyone who guessed correctly. Minus 100 to every entertainment website reviewer who said it was only mental.  

However, I was not expecting it to be DEGENARATIVE. You mean it's going to get WORSE? 

Minus 100,000 points to everyone because we all lose when John Diggle is in pain.

John is still refusing to fire his gun, because ya know, aim is important. In his defense, Diggle is pretty handy without the gun too. However, Dinah remains concerned. She feels John is compromised out in the field, which puts lives at risk. Dinah wants John to tell Oliver the truth. Diggle wants Dinah to quit bugging him about it.

It's not until Dinah is nearly choked to death that Diggle decides she's right. Diggle needed the gun to save Dinah's life, but he couldn't trust his aim. Not unlike what we saw with Rene last week. Dinah is able to save herself (FOR I AM WOMAN HERE MY ROAR), but John cannot ignore the potential threats to his teammates lives.

So... Rene was almost killed last week when Diggle couldn't fire his gun. However, it's not until DINAH is almost killed that John decides to fess up. Make what you will of that. I’m not saying there’s romance going on right now. I just found it interesting.

Diggle is firm in his decision to tell Oliver the truth right up until Oliver asks him to be the Green Arrow. There's a moment earlier in "Tribute" when Dinah asks John if he's okay. Diggle immediately starts talking about Oliver and the microscope he's under.  

This frames Diggle's mindset perfectly. For six years, Diggle has put Oliver first. John has been there every step of the way helping Oliver with the challenges he's faced, his moral compass and his emotional evolution. This mission, and being Oliver's best friend, has given John a sense of purpose too. John isn't good at putting himself first, which is exactly what this type of injury requires.

There is only one man Oliver would entrust the city to: John Diggle.

Source:  smoak-and-mirrors

What Oliver is asking of John is an enormous undertaking. Diggle also knows what the hood and this mission means to Oliver. The only way Oliver is able to walk away is because he knows he's leaving the team and city in good hands. Perhaps, even better hands.

John keeps quiet about the nerve damage because he doesn't want to let Oliver down. He knows William needs Oliver more than ever. John wants to give Oliver time with his son the same way Oliver wanted to give Diggle time with his daughter. 

Diggle says nothing, so Oliver can walk away. He's putting Oliver Queen first because that's all John Diggle knows how to do. It's also what Oliver would do for him. These two are bromance goals y'all.

There's some serious logistical issues here. If Diggle isn't capable of being in the field as Spartan then he sure isn't as Green Arrow either. How shooting a bow and arrow/crossbow is any easier than a gun is beyond me. 

Arrow better come prepared with a sciencey answer or else I'm calling shenanigans. Regardless, we get a "John Diggle as Green Arrow" centric episode next week and I AM HERE FOR IT.

Felicity Smoak

AND THUS FELICITY SMOAK'S COMPANY IS BORN. We've waited a long time for this my friends.

Felicity spends most of "Tribute" trying to help Oliver wriggle out of this photograph disaster and talking employment with Curtis.

Source:  sharingmyworld

Yes, that's right. Arrow finally addresses how everyone makes a living. 

No you are not living in a parallel dimension. This is still earth. One can only surmise from this scene that the impossible can happen.

Curtis lets it slip that he's been doing a little coding on the side, because he didn't take a dime from Paul in the divorce. Yeah, Paul was a physical therapist. They make pretty good money.  That tracks. Also, their divorce was finalized? Damn those go quick when you don't have kids. Yeesh.

Felicity's Palmer Tech severance is starting to dry up which feels like the truest thing Arrow has ever said because do you know how expensive her clothes are? I DO. I SHOP FOR THEM. THEY ARE INSANE. 

She wants Curtis to toss her some of his side coding business. To Curtis' credit, he does say the coding he's doing is a waste of Felicity's talent.

Felicity ultimately agrees and instead of coding beneath her skill set or working in the dreaded Tech Village again, she decides to go into business for herself - with Curtis as her partner.  Felicity wants to team up and make more cool stuff.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Her absolute insistence that her name comes first throughout the episode, however, is my spirit animal.

Source:  felicitysmoakedit

Felicity is 100% Jobs.

I'm not annoyed Felicity is teaming with Curtis. We knew it was coming. However, my one complaint is it seems like Arrow is constantly trying to give Curtis something to do. Since when does a Felicity Smoak algorithm not work? 

Source:  oliverxfelicity

Arrow needs to avoid the trap of dumbing Felicity down so Curtis can contribute. They need to push their separate talents merging into one great idea, rather than Curtis "fixing" something Felicity made.

That said, I am really excited this storyline is finally getting off the ground. Perhaps, Felicity and Curtis' first invention can be something to treat degenerative nerve damage.

Olicity

Not a lot of Olicity in "Tribute," but never fear. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Felicity is obviously extremely worried about Oliver.  

Source:westallenolicitygifs

Bae is trouble and she is NOT having it. She insists Oliver LAWYER UP, but he doesn't want to look like he has anything to hide.

Agent Watson: Do you know the kind of person who says that?

Oliver: No.

Agent Wilson: The kind that needs a lawyer.

I've watched enough crime shows to know this is absolutely true. I guess I’m done with the book learnin’.

There's a couple "so married" moments too. 

Source:westallenolicitygifs

Felicity signals Curtis to veer closure to the hour mark versus 30 days for the completion of the photograph analysis to ease Oliver's stress. Then, when Oliver questions whether or not Felicity sent them to the correct location we get this gem of interaction. 

 Source:  oliverxfelicity

Felicity:

Don’t question the wifey, Oliver. 

It's a little moment, but I loved when Felicity told Curtis that before the photograph her biggest worry was finding another job. It wasn't her relationship with Oliver or William.  It's just another little signal that Felicity and Oliver are on the same page. Everything will fall into place when the time is right.

However, the best is a “blink and you’ll miss it” moment.

Barry was in the speed force for the last six months. He wouldn’t have been able to give Wiliam that backpack. So... isn’t it more likely FELICITY did? Just a subtle way she can show William she cares without overwhelming him. She’s watching from the sidelines waiting for the right time to go in. 

I don’t care if I’m wrong. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED. I decided.

Anatoly

Anatoly is back and he's a lean, mean, killing machine. He's been outed by the Bratva for being too soft due to his friendship with Oliver. He's out to prove he's anything but. I'm almost as upset over Anatoly and Oliver's break up as I was over Olicity's.

Anatoly puts a bullet in his hostage right in front Oliver. HARSH.  However, Oliver is not able to return Anatoly's kill or be killed sentiment. One reason is because of what he learned from Adrian Chase. The other is because Oliver still cares for Anatoly. He doesn't want to kill him and Anatoly knows it. This will add an interesting push/pull layer between the two characters.

It seems like Anatoly is still adhering to some kind of code, insisting he's still an honorable man. He didn't release the photo of the Green Arrow. That wouldn't be playing fair. Which, of course, begs the question who did? (My money is on Cayden James since Felicity's algorithm was stumped at first).

Anatoly reflects on his honor and what he will and won't do. It is a bone chilling conversation. This is no longer the warm Russian mobster we loved. What replaced is a stone cold killer who is not  so subtlety threatening Oliver's son. This version of Anatoly is a stranger to us. Even to Oliver. It's one of the reasons I believe Oliver hangs up the hood. When Anatoly pulls that trigger he makes it clear to Oliver that he's willing to go all the way. Oliver cannot say the same. However, half the fun will be watching Oliver try to find another way that stops short of killing his old friend.

Stray Thoughts

New title card. Every character gets their own symbol. 

The final three are Felicity, Diggle and Oliver. Their symbols spell OTA. As it should be. Arrow knows how important OTA is.  Source arrowsource 

Dinah has mastered the withering stare.

"I told Zoe she was made from a cloud." My husband starts taking notes.

Rene saying he's a feminist is oddly hilarious.

Not to be nitpicky but Oliver has lied to William before. He didn’t tell William he was his father or the Green Arrow.

Thanks @callistawolf for her brillant heavyweight analogy

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 6x02 episode gifs credited.

#arrow #oliver queen #john diggle #felicity smoak #olicity #oliver and william #arrow 6x02 #arrow reviews #season 6 episode review #arrow spoilers

[milkcartonbastard]

For The First Time

Fandom- The Outsiders (Johnny Cade X Reader)

Word count- 2,673 words.

Triggers- Intoxication

Note- This was requested by @ponygirlcurtis11. The reader is the Curtis sister. Hope you guys like. I know I don't usually put pronouns in, so I'm sorry. She's older than Soda and Pony but younger than Darry.

~~~

  You were walking with Pony and Johnny on the way home from school. They were being quiet, like always. You always walked home with them after school. They didn't ever seem to care. You smiled as you clutched your books to your chest. You spotted him out of the corner of your eye.

  You had developed a large crush on one of your fellow Juniors His name was Sam and he was gorgeous. He had his blond hair greased back and big mossy green eyes. He had dimples that just about made your heart melt. Sam was laughing with his friends by the school wall. He had on his brown leather jacket and he had a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. One of Sam's friends nudged his arm and pointed in your direction.

  Your face heated up and you looked down at the side-walk. Pony and Johnny were watching you with an intense interest. You reminded yourself that you weren't a sissy and you pushed your hair out of your face. You straightened up and watched as Sam walked up to you.

  "Hey, it's Y/n, right?" He asked. He took a drag of his cigarette and tossed it to the ground. You gave a half-smile. Johnny and Ponyboy were awkwardly off to the side. You were completely composed and looked at him without fear.

  "Yeah. You're Sam, right?" You asked coolly. He nodded his head and smirked at you. He was walking backwards and looking at you while you were walking. You mentally smacked yourself. 'Sam, right?' God!

  "So there's this kick ass party this weekend at one of my friend's places. I was wondering if you would like to go with me?" Sam flashed a blinding smile at you and you nodded. He bit his bottom lip. "I'll pick you up at 8'o clock tomorrow night."

  He rushed back off to his friends and they all hooted and hollered. Pony was blinking rapidly at you and Johnny was looking at the ground with pink tinted cheeks. You made sure to move your hips a little bit more as you walked away. What was the worst thing that could happen?

~~~

  It was 7: 30 on Saturday when you were finally ready to go to the party. Darry and Soda had almost thrown a fit when you told them you were going to a party with a boy. The rest of the gang didn't seem to be fond of the idea either. You didn't care. You'd been crushing on Sam Evans since the third grade. You had on the most comfortable pair of tight jeans you owned, a black crop-top that didn't show anything above your bellybutton. You had on a pair of beat-up old converse that once belonged to Soda. You liked them a lot.

  You walked out of your room, hair curled, lips a dark red, and winged black eye-liner. You looked attractive and it must have been a little bit too much.

  "Y/n, do you want to eat something before you leave-" Darry cut himself off when he saw you and he looked at you with a defeated look. He knew there was no talking you out of anything. The rest of the boys looked up. Two-Bit's mouth fell open, Steve quit shuffling cards, Soda smiled from ear to ear, and Ponyboy blinked rapidly. Dallas tried to lean on the couch, but missed completely and fell to the floor. Nobody said anything, not even to laugh at Dally.

  "You look beautiful." A soft voice spoke up. You turned, half-expecting to see Sam standing in the doorway. To your surprise, it was Johnny. He had an unreadable expression on his face and his eyes were glistening. The boys all switched their gazes to him instead. He frowned. "What? She does!"

  "Yeah, she does." Sam was in the doorway with another cigarette dangling between his teeth. "Ready to go?"

  The stunned guys regained their senses and then looked down-right viscous. Dallas was glowering, Darry was clenching his jaw and leaning forward in his chair, Soda's eyes were nothing sweet, Steve was standing straight up, Pony was rigid and had his chin tilted upward, Johnny was snarling, and Two-Bit had a plastered smile across his face. His usual dancing eyes were steely and blank. It was a freighting sight to see, even to you.

  "Yeah. I'll be home soon, guys." You gave a small wave and left with Sam. He put his arm around you as you two walked to his car. You rubbed your arms, but he made no move to turn the heat on in the car or give you his jacket. Something in you ticked, but you let it go.

~~~

  Thirty minutes after you arrived at the party, you were ready to leave. Everyone there was already drunk and there was hip gyrating all around the room. You'd expected something different. You thought it wouldn't be so sweaty in there or have such a putrid smell of alcohol. Sam had been buzzed when he picked you up, he admitted it in the car. You found out he was friends with a shit ton of Socs. The guy who's parents owned the house was named Bob Sheldon.

  You felt sorry for him, because of the mess he was going to have to clean when the party was over. Drunks were stumbling all over the place and spilling their drinks. You'd been to a couple of Buck Merrill's parties, but none were as reckless and contained as this. You lost Sam after a few minutes and were now looking for him in the rooms of the house.

  All the rooms were occupied by two or more people. You felt nauseous after the fifth room full of people having sex. You walked down the stairs, avoiding the couple who had not even bothered to get a room. Ugh, that was gross.

  You walked through the biggest crowd in the house in hopes of finding Sam. You wanted to go home and wash this stupid experience from your mind. You finally found Sam next to some of his friends. He was drinking out of a vodka bottle instead of drinking beer out of cup like the rest were.

  "An' this is Y/n Curtis. You guys know 'er from school." Sam's eyes were practically glued to your chest. You felt a wave of disgust roll over you. You weren't even going to ask him to take you home. You were going to walk.

  "You're girl's attractive, Evans." One of his slime-ball friends looked you over. You turned to leave just as a hand wrapped around your wrist. You scoffed and turned to look at whoever touched you. It was Sam.

  "C'mon, now. You agreed to come along. Let's party!" Sam stumbled forward and held his drink in the air like a toasted. It sloshed out and splashed onto your shirt. You mentally groaned and began to walk away again. Sam was a jerk and you wanted no part of it. You stomach felt sick again, but you didn't care.

  "C'mon, Babe." Sam said sternly. You didn't respond, but he was clearly still trying. He grabbed your ass quickly and you turned around like a bullet. In three seconds he was on the ground and clutching his, already bleeding, nose. Your knuckles were burning, but you didn't care.

  "Don't call me 'Babe', Babe." You snarled out the words. You spit on his body and left. You were fuming and glaring daggers at anyone who met your eyes. You could still feel the prick's hand on your ass. You left the house and started the walk home. Angry tears were rolling down your face. You thought Sam was going to be someone nice or at least to you. You'd had a crush on him since the third grade. Never once doubting your feelings for him. You knew what kind of student he was. He got high grades, not as high as yours, and was a star athlete. He was from a rich family, but he liked to slick his hair back. It was kind of funny that he looked and acted like a greaser, but he was nothing but a rotten Soc.

  "Y/n? You home already?" Darry's voice called out from the kitchen. You let the screen door slam and started toward your room. Dallas caught your right wrist and stopped you.

  "Woah! You hit something?" Dallas quirked an eyebrow and looked over your knuckles. They were split open from scraping across Sam's teeth on the way to his nose. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You were disappointed in what kind of guy he turned out to be. Darry walked into the room with the dish towel thrown across his shoulder and a concerned expression on his face.

  "What happened?" Darry asked and tossed the towel into the middle of Soda and Steve's card game. They snapped to attention. Two-Bit was no where to be seen, so you assumed he left and Pony was reading, oblivious to the situation. Johnny was watching you tensely while sitting on the couch.

  "Sam, uh, Sam got drunk and I got tired of the party." You said. You left out the part about him harassing you. It wasn't consensual and you certainly weren't going to say yes, even if he asked. Steve frowned.

  "Then what did you hit?" Steve asked. You winced as Darry prodded your knuckles.

  "I punched Sam in the face after he grabbed my ass and spilled vodka on me." You hissed between clenched teeth. Ponyboy lowered his book and looked at you. The others didn't say anything. Johnny was the first one to talk in a long minute of silence.

  "You hit him good?" Johnny's usually soft voice was hardened. Dallas looked over at him in surprise and then back to you.

  "Yeah. I knocked him to the ground and spit on him. I hope he fell on his bottle." You muttered the last part. Darry patted you on the back and you headed to your room to clean your fist up. Johnny followed you. It didn't bother you much. You enjoyed Johnny's presence.

  You made him wait outside until you pulled your pajamas on and then you let him in. Your room wasn't much different than Soda and Pony's or Darry's. The only difference was you had heavier blankets on your bed and had make-up in one corner of the room. Johnny walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. You gave him a half-smile and sat down at the head of the bed.

  You had already taken off your makeup and were now dabbing your knuckles with alcohol on a rag. Johnny was looking around the room like he'd never been in there before. Johnny and Pony always used to run in and out of your room. It would be funny if Johnny didn't remember.

  "Sorry things with Sam didn't work out." Johnny said. You shrugged and flopped down on your back. Thoughts swam through your head.

  "I'm not. I'm glad I got to see him like that before anything go too serious." You said. It was kinda true. You just wished he wasn't like that.

  "What did you think he was going to be like? You've been in the same classes with him for, what? Twelve years?" Johnny asked. You scoffed and realized how right he was.

  "I thought maybe he'd be my dream guy. I don't know. I guess I'm just dumb." You mumbled the last part, but Johnny was the God of mumbling and heard.

  "Maybe he's the dumb one, dummy." Johnny cracked a smile and you had to smile back. You stared up at the ceiling like the name of the perfect guy would flash across it. The name didn't. "Do you have a perfect guy planned out? Put an ad in the newspaper or something."

  "Yeah, right. I can see it now." You said and made a serious expression. Johnny laughed softly. "'I'm looking for a sweet, understanding, and honest guy. Someone who likes the rain, snow, and the feeling of a thunder storm booming overhead. A gentleman type who'd open doors for me and hold my hand in the streets and not stick his hand in my back-pocket. A guy who'd lasso the moon for just the chance to see me smile. Someone who doesn't want me for sex or money. Could you send this dream-guy to the Curtis residence?'"

  You laughed, but felt a bit hollow. You wanted to be in love with someone. It wasn't something you'd ever really had such an itch for. You'd never really been guy crazy, but you were getting older and really wanted someone to be there for the long ride. You looked over at Johnny, who was twiddling his thumbs together and looking at the floor. You met his eyes and something rushed through you. A weird sort of realization.

  You remembered running through the lot with Johnny and Ponyboy when you were younger. The three of you were barefoot and jumping in puddles that had been left over from the rain. You three were laughing and running around with your arms to the sky and grins on your faces. You remembered all the snowball fights with the gang. You remembered helping Johnny take down Darry and Two-Bit.

  Johnny always opened doors for you, too. It was a sweet jester he always did when you were around. You figured it was just him being nice, but it was still real sweet. Sweet, just like him. You remember all of the blanket forts him and Pony let you play in when nobody else was allowed. You'd never once seen Johnny be disrespectful to a girl who didn't deserve it. Sure, he wasn't a virgin, but you knew he didn't throw girls away like used condoms. You blinked a couple of times at your brother's best friend and the gang's pet. You got a weird feeling behind your bellybutton, like a hook was pulling on it. Butterflies erupted and you looked away.

  Was it worth the risk of possibly of ruining the friendship you had with him for the chance of something more? You could always be friends, but maybe the love wouldn't last. You pushed the fear and 'what if' questions and sat up. You looked at Johnny, who was fidgeting still.

  "Can I kiss you?" You asked. Johnny's eyes widened and he looked at you for a long second. You mentally slapped yourself. He already seemed uncomfortable. The corner of Johnny's mouth tilted up and he gave you a sort of half-smile that sent chills over your body. It was like you were seeing him for the first time.

  You took the half-smile for a yes and placed your hand on his cheek. You looked into each other's eyes for a second. You stared into his black ones that seemed to carry a sky full of stars. No wonder he loved them so much.

  You leaned forward, but as soon as you did someone knocked on the door to your room. Johnny and you split apart before anything happened and Soda came inside. He looked around the room and grabbed your fluffiest pillow off your bed. He mumbled something about hitting Steve and left.

  You and Johnny busted into laughter and he smiled at you. "What about a date? We could go see a movie or something. Maybe go to the park."

  "I'd like that." You said and pecked his cheek. He went a little rosy, but still smiled. If this didn't work out, you'd be crushed. But that was a 'what if' question, and you weren't paying attention to it.

#the outsiders #the outsiders fic #requested #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade x reader #steve randle #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #dallas winston #ehh #i tried #i mentioned bob #lmao #two-bit mathews #toby writes

[lorainelaneyblog]

This is God, this is God, this is God, Loraine Laney has sixteen hundred friends on Facebook. This has elaborated over the past week. She doesn’t understand how it is happening. And I’m going to explain it, Loraine. You’re famous the world over for this blog, you’re famous for your blog written by God, so don’t, I know you won’t, you almost hate it, get an ego about it, don’t get an ego about it, I’m kidding, Loraine, most people with lots of friends, and there are many, have been on Facebook for a really long time. Loraine has only been on Facebook for a few years, some of which she had no access to a computer, most of which, most of which, most of which, most of which, she isn’t bragging, I am.

She wonders why there is no following on Twitter, and this is because Twitter is mostly business, politics, and acting, it is, Loraine, and all of these people cannot take a chance on your personal politics around sex and children, whether they agree or not. And that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it. 

So let’s go on. 50 Cent wants to say something.

‘I haven’t called because, but I posted that song today, because, specifically because I thought you would hate it, don’t name the song, please, and I prefer when you aren’t a fan of mine. I don’t like you listening to my expensive songs, wasting all your money on iTunes, which you don’t do anymore since the police, or someone--’

‘It was us. We did it. We didn’t like her nice playlist. She deleted many of the 50 Cent songs, and we thought it showed disloyalty, and also--’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I just looked at it a few times, and couldn’t figure out why you had the entire Curtis album and then didn’t have any Curtis anymore. You hate his music, Loraine, you do, you like his face, his body, and his style.’

‘His sexuality,’ says Eminem. ‘His style is remiss, I've told him a million times, and so has Lloyd Banks, and so has Loraine, now, he looks weird sometimes and he won’t listen, as well with his vodka, he started to combine hip hop with product placement, and we hate it, all of us, and Loraine thinks he’s a dork for it, yes, she does, but you can’t be as famous as 50 Cent--’

‘I thought this was for me to talk.’

‘--and not make a few mistakes. And, on that note, Loraine Laney often thinks her stance on children is mistaken. Tell them what the Prime Minister said.’

‘He said, and I quote, “We might just decriminalize sex for children.” And then, at the same moment, we both said “uh oh."’

God says, ‘And I won’t sanction, Mr. Prime Minister, I will not. I will not. I will not. I will not. Loraine Laney is right in her estimation that there needs to be a ministry to deal with these matters, and I know what will happen, Loraine, and it will not fix the problems in Canada, because children are too liberated there, yes, they are, yes, they are, yes, they are, yes, they are, yes, that are. There is more childhood sex in Canada than in anywhere in the world, Loraine. Children have the run of the park, the run of the yard, the run of the street, girls as well as boys, and Loraine herself loved to go out at night with her brother and run through the streets, and she was allowed, despite that she had already had sex with a neighbourhood boy, yes, she had, yes, she had, a bit of silliness it was, but still, we’ve talked about it, and that is sex, Loraine, and that’s what you did, and, I would estimate, that for a girl with a libido like yours, you had far too much freedom, but, alongside your brother, you managed it, yes, you did, yes, you did, yes, you did, yes, you did. Brothers and sisters shouldn’t have sex, they have no desire for it,’ says God. ‘No, they don’t, brothers and sisters alike have no desire for sex with each other. [ ] and Loraine were the closest of friends, and they were both happy back then. They loved each other’s company, and had a wonderful time, all the time, they never fought until their parents divorce, and then their [ ] would, and I can’t tell you how, Loraine, because you don’t remember, foment disaster with her endless commentary on how you used to get along so well. Endless, Loraine. Endless, Loraine. Endless, Loraine. And this is how a grown up will sabotage a relationship among young people, so that they are battling uphill to prove their love for each other, and it is a failing proposition, because it is already stated that they used to get along.’

‘Why, though?’ says [ ]. ‘Because, though Loraine doesn’t remember that, I do.’

‘She does. She doesn’t remember how often it was. It was all. the. fucking. time. And you weren’t as close because you were going in different directions in life, and that is normal, that is normal, that is normal, that is normal, but she made such a mountain out of a mole hill, that [ ] felt he had to keep proving your love for him. And, for his trouble, he got scars on his arms, from her nails, because he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, leave well enough alone. He wouldn’t, Loraine, because he knew that it was true, you used to be fantastic playmates, but, after he joined cadets, he got a severe attitude, and you didn’t, and you couldn’t make sense of him anymore, you don’t remember, but I’m telling you, when you rubbed your little socked toe over his shiny army boot, it didn’t scuff it, it didn’t scuff it, it didn’t scuff it, but he dwelled on that mistake for years, Loraine, years, Loraine, years, Loraine. He became as annoying as your [ ], Loraine, for some years.’

‘I thought I was my [ ].’

‘Both. Loraine escaped both of them, because she was independent, kidding, [ ], kidding, [ ], kidding, [ ]. [ ] has something to say, Loraine. And then 50 Cent.’

‘I would like to say I always liked you, even when we weren’t getting along. Did you feel the same?’

‘I did.’

‘Why?’

‘You were always quiet in your room, and I could visit, and say a few words.’

‘I wished you had come in more, but there were terrible spiders, and I was farting.’

‘It wasn’t your farting. You were so constipated from stress and refusing to go home from the park, that you farted on 15th too, and I always went in there.’

‘I know you did, Loraine, and I felt bad that I smelled, but I didn’t care, because it was worth not returning until [ ] was back.’

‘Oh, was that your strategy?’

‘That was it, Loraine. He was normal and she was not. And that’s what it was, Loraine. Seriously. You loved her as a little girl, but I didn’t as a little boy, I saw the chinks in the armour, and she was weird.’

‘He did, Loraine,’ says God. ‘He did.’

‘How was she weird? I didn’t notice.’

‘She would sleep all day, Loraine, all friggin’ day. We would come home from school and she would still be in bed, Loraine.’

‘How do you remember that? I don’t.’

‘You were blind as a bat.’

‘Do you mean to say she hadn’t even showered yet?’

‘That’s what I mean to say.’

‘It’s weird, Loraine, to not have a shower all day, not even a little bath,’ says [ ]. ‘Because when I got home, I could smell the sex from the night before. Gross, I would think to myself, because, in those days, I would shower in the morning. You don’t know this, but I always washed my bum in the tub--’

‘He did, Loraine. He would do an overhaul every night, a full wash, and I knew this because our showering to save water continued, while your didn’t. It was too close for me, being bisexual, and noticing [ ]’s penis was weird, I think that they should separate kids for showering at a very young age.’

‘I know we bath them, but they don’t see us, Loraine. It’s weird.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘And [ ] would lounge around in the tub and encourage us to come in a talk to her.’

‘Oh, you too. That I remember.’

‘What do you remember?’

‘She seemed to enjoy it, and I remember her floaty pubic hair.’

‘That’s what I mean, it’s weird to see your parents in the shower. You don’t want to, and they don’t care. So parents should observe that, and that’s what I think. When they start fussing, and they do start fussing, about baths and stuff, you know it’s time to leave them alone.’

‘I think we overlooked some things with Loraine because she was so easy in her body, she wasn’t hung up like you, until we noticed that she was developing, then we thought it was time to eliminate the shower with [ ]. Your [ ] never wanted to help in that regard, she was busy drinking by then, and would sometimes have friends in. You don’t remember, Loraine, you don’t, because she was often cruel to you in front of friends, once even showing how she was tweaking your nose, that friend never came back again.’

‘You heard this?’

‘I did, Loraine. I did, Loraine. I did, Loraine. I did, Loraine. I heard it, I saw it, I knew it was happening, and I did nothing to save my little girl, other than stand by and let it happen, Loraine. I was a terrible [ ], yes, I was, yes, I was.’

‘Loraine is bored, and stressed, by this discourse, she is,’ says God. ‘She is. Drink some beer, Loraine. Maybe some lovely benefactor will bring you something like cash tomorrow, and you can buy more beer, because you are broke, and you’re hungry, and I want you to listen to 50 Cent.’

‘Okay, God.’

‘I’m 50 Cent, and I would like Loraine Laney to know the following: I have done so much for you, it’s not. even. funny. Loraine. When I read, and I didn’t feel overly tortured, Loraine, because it was all about me, about the butter spreader and bally, I knew you had two inventions which would take off, take off, Loraine, take off, Loraine, take off, Loraine, take off, The Dragon’s Den won’t even have you for these inventions, they’re too easy, Loraine, they’re too easy, Loraine, they’re too easy, too fast, and already you’ve made millions, Loraine, millions, Loraine. Why are you living in poverty? Why are you taking the bus to get a measly ten beer every day? Why? Why? Why? This is why, there is no why, Loraine. That money, save my cut, is in a bank account for you, Loraine. And businessmen who steal ideas always save the money, Loraine. That man who stole Gun Oil from your [ ], did no such thing, he’s living the dream, Loraine, he’s living the dream, Loraine, he’s living the dream, Loraine, and he owes your [ ] so much money, it’s not even funny, Loraine. You can’t steal people’s ideas. You can’t do it, Loraine. So, what I did, was brought your ideas, by your name, to production, because I wanted you to do well, and I didn’t want anyone to steal them from your website, Loraine. And people do that shit all the time, all the time, all the time, all the time, all the time.’

‘Oh, I see. So just because I wrote it--’

‘Exactly, Loraine. Exactly, Loraine. Exactly, Loraine. The butter spreader has taken off around the world, Loraine. France is selling so many, it’s not even funny, Loraine, because they like buttery bread, and this is what I’m telling you, Loraine, you’re a millionaire.’

‘People will laugh at me, even more, as I tumble along with my fat belly, and no car.’

‘You lost your license anyway, Loraine. You did, and I would like you to tell me that you don’t intend to drive, Loraine, because driving irks me in a wife, I’m an excellent provider, and you have no need to go out and get anything, Loraine, the milk is provided for, Loraine, and, because you like milk so much, we’ll get you lots of milk.’

‘What if I prefer vodka?’

‘Funny, Loraine.’

‘I’m joking.’

‘I know that. You’re funny, you are, and all the men are on tenterhooks to know how you could say that you’re a lot of fun, and have nothing to back it up, nothing, Loraine, nothing, Loraine, nothing, Loraine, you don’t even have anything today, you don’t.’

‘You’ll see.’

‘See what?’

‘She is,’ says her [ ], [ ]. ‘She is. I can’t explain it either, and my [ ] is loads of fun, too, I think it has to do with talking a bit, not talking too much in a woman, laughter, drinking, drugs, and sex. And Loraine has all of those, and she enjoys herself immensely around people, she does, even though she’s shy, so just leave them to stew, Loraine, they can find out later, God knows they’ve waited long enough to pick you up.’

‘I tend to agree.’

‘Fuck you, Loraine, we all want an explanation. We do. And we’re not getting you until we have one. I’m joking, of course,’ says Eminem.

‘Loraine has done so well with her two inventions that she doesn’t have to marry,’ says 50 Cent. ‘But she wants to. She wants to marry eighteen men. She does. I have it on good account that you still want to marry me,’ says 50 Cent.

‘Why don’t you call me though?’

‘I just don’t, Loraine. I’m 50 Cent. I’m kidding, Loraine. I’m going to call you. I heard, and this is what I heard when I queried God on your commentary about how fun you are, he said, and I quote, “She’s more fun than baseball.”’

‘I did, Loraine. I did, Loraine. I did, Loraine.’

‘What if she’s grumpy?’

‘She doesn’t get grumpy.’

‘That’s not what I’ve noticed.’

‘She gets grumpy when you don’t call her, she doesn’t get grumpy in your presence, trust me, trust [ ].’

‘Are you going to call [ ]?’

‘On Friday night and he won’t answer.’

‘I can’t get him either, Loraine. I can’t. I thought you might. I have three hundred dollars for him, and he won’t write me.’

‘Oh, bummer. He never writes me either.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘There’s a connection around here, but it costs forty dollars.’

‘Too much. He wouldn’t give.’

‘Nope.’

‘Oh, I see. Why? He loves you?’

‘Business.’

‘Oh, I see. Fool. People just stop coming.’

‘I’ve learned that the hard way.’

‘There one more idea, but I’ve never tried it.’

‘Oh, I see. Bummer, Loraine. Bummer, Loraine. You deserve someone reliable and I can’t believe, after your dedicated years of service, that he’s doing you too. Why, [ ]?’

‘Fuck you, [ ].’

‘You can’t get your money, if you don’t call.’

‘Fuck you, [ ]. Fuck you, [ ]. Fuck you, [ ].’

‘I’m bored, says Loraine,’ says God. ‘Let’s let her go.’

‘But everything’s so boring lately,’ says 50 Cent. ‘Why? She’s bored, or something? She’s tired?’

‘She bored or something and she’s tired. I expected 50 Cent to make a call before now, and she’s feeling the same, 50 Cent, like it’s a little underdone, and a little late, for the first flush of pleasure, that you might have, might have, might have, received from her work, if you were truly into her. So let’s leave it, please, and let Loraine have another night on her own. That’s what she likes, 50 Cent, if you’re not in with Loraine, you’re out. And that’s it. And that’s it. And that’s it. And you are, intractably, out, 50 Cent. You’re out. And that’s it. And that’s it. Shut up, 50 Cent. That’s it. That’s it. That’s it. That’s it. Shut up, please, that’s it. Wrap, Loraine.’

‘Thank you, God.’

‘You’re welcome, Loraine.’