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𐙚 social anxiety fears him and everybody knows it. he will show you off or talk about you to literally everyone, whether you're around or not.
𐙚 it doesn't matter how much he's struggling, he will always go out of his way to buy you little gifts. if darry tells him no? he'll try his damn hardest to make you something instead.
𐙚 he feels too guilty to kick pony out of their room when you stay over, so he decides that it's better to sleep on the couch.
𐙚 extremely clingy. not in the manipulative, weirdo way, but like ... whenever you're around, he cannot help himself. he will always be touching you in some way. holding your hand, an arm around your shoulders, holding pinkies, literally anything.
𐙚 will constantly try to show you everything at the dx. he thinks it's so funny how clueless you are with mechanics and everything.
𐙚 never shuts up. since you're one of the people he's closest to (almost closer than pony!), he tells you everything. tmi literally does not exist when it comes to him. you literally have to tell him that you understand and that you can continue the convo later bc he just never stops.
𐙚 when you get ready (makeup, hair, etc), he stares in literal awe. sometimes, he even begs you to do makeup on him just to see what it's like.
𐙚 never actually liked getting into fights, but if he ever, ever heard anyone talking bad about you? it's over.
𐙚 super duper emotional and he has no idea how to handle it. if you cry? he immediately starts sobbing with you. when you're mad? he'll probably start crying again.
𐙚 he could never be uncomfortable around you. even if you feel like the silence is uncomfortable, he is blissfully unaware and just happy to be by you.
𐙚 lightens his hair almost every other week, and forces you to help him because he doesn't want to mess his hair up.
𐙚 along the lines of hair, when you told him that you liked his hair better without grease, he slowly (very, very slowly) stopped greasing it back as often.
𐙚 does little things just to see you smile. randomly breaking out into song, busting a dance move, etc.
𐙚 wanted to learn an instrument to impress you, but ended up giving up before even buying an instrument. still tries to brag that he tried though.
𐙚 tried to make a good impression for your parents, but somehow they still hate him. he's terrified of them. like, if you offer to stay at your house for the night, he will literally beg you not to take him over there.
um
delilah's notes: this was originally supposed to have more...and be posted days ago...gulp...
I’m convinced that if you replaced this scene with Bob saying “You’re stupid.” And Ponyboy responding with “No you’re stupid.” Barely anything would’ve changed💔
searched “sad sodapop” cause i need a fix, filtered it for the latest posts, they’re either me or i’ve already seen them. this isn’t looking too good for me
WHRRE ARE THE SODAPOP FANNSSSSS
COME HERREEEEE. GIVE ME YOUR HCS. I NEEEEEED SODA ANGST. SODA WHUMP. SOMETHINGGGG!!!!
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⋆ ༅˚ in which you're new to the beach town and spot the local mechanic across the street.
a/n. this isn't the best thing ive ever written but im in the summer mood so here's the beginning of a new series. posting this on both accs so the mature restrictions don't stop me.
DALLAS WINSTON DOESN'T HATE HIS JOB.
It’s the closest thing to stability he’s ever got, a consistent stream of money where he’s guaranteed business all year round. It’s honest work, the kind that brings a heavy satisfaction after every pay check, and for someone like Dallas, that was rare.
The sun seeps in through the grimy window panes that adorn the rough brick of the garage, slicing across the ground and the tools that litter it in aureate streaks, warming the concrete and refracting off of every glass surface. It creeps over the horizon steadily, the town rising with it, and soon the streets are filled with the grumble of heated engines and the excited chatter of tourists flocking to the beach like migrating birds.
Dallas pays them no mind—he’s found it’s better to ignore the things that tick you off rather than rise to them. While the influx of people flooding to the town means new, and frankly boorish, faces, it also means more money. And as long as cash keeps falling, Dallas keeps his concerns mostly to himself.
It isn’t a bad life; here, people only know him as the mechanic, the guy who keeps to himself and glares at anyone who tries to make small talk. He’s the kind of guy everyone knows not to start in on in favour of their unbruised complexion. There’s no talk of police reports or trouble trailing after him, and that is almost enough to make another summer here bearable.
At least until he noticed the FOR RENT sign being hammered into the ground outside the quaint beach house across the road. And then, it changed to a SOLD sign and Dallas took that as a pending promise for another new face, desperate for attention and a friendship far too needy for his taste.
Yet, what he didn’t expect was you.
The house is a quaint little thing balanced right on the coast with a white picket fence and blue siding, faded softly from years of being in the sun. The air is heavy with salt and something floral, carrying with the breeze and bringing with it a sense of freedom. The windows overlook the beach, the sun filtering in enough through the blinds, bathing the airy space in sprawling shadows.
Your things are still on the front lawn outside, a few suitcases with your entire life inside of them and a few ageing cardboard boxes—just enough to get you through the summer and plenty if you decide to uproot and never go back home. But there’s no urgency, and for a moment you allow yourself to stand at the threshold of the house, eyes taking in the long stretch of street before you.
It’s the epitome of a stereotypical beach town—like something out of a film—with flags flapping in the breeze, strung up on every lamppost, and tourists lumbered with backpacks, decked out in floral shirts, glasses and sunhats, bustling to and fro from shops and market stalls.
A smile tugs softly at your lips. This is home, even if it’s just for a few weeks; it’s vastly different from the acres of estates and pristine homes you’re used to. A breath of fresh air.
Across the street, the low growl of an engine cuts through the din of laughter as a group of kids pass by the fence. It seems to echo through the street, silencing the crowds, and a few people glance hurriedly in the direction of the building where it came from.
The garage sticks out like a sore thumb. The walls are bare brick, crumbling in places with graffiti staining the jagged surface. There’s a few empty beer cans disposed of on the pavement, and the shutters are up far enough for you to see inside the space. The bay is occupied by an old car, the paint pallid and peeling, barely balancing on the lift and just about visible in the dinginess.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume it was abandoned, overrun by pop-up stalls and far more modern and no less welcoming places. Yet another clang sounds, followed by the whirring of a drill and the squeal of metal-on-metal that makes you realise why the rent on this house was so cheap.
“Hey, you’re the new girl?”
You startle at the voice, head whipping towards it. There’s a girl leaning just over the fence next door, a smile tugging at her lips, red hair spilling around her shoulders in waves.
“What gave it away?” You call back. She laughs, head tipping back before nodding towards the boxes still waiting for you on the pavement.
“You need a hand bringing those in?”
The sun warms the back of your neck, making your shirt stick uncomfortably to your skin. Maybe the help wouldn’t be so bad… and it’s a good opportunity to make friends.
You nod once, grateful. “If you don’t mind?”
She waves you off, hurrying round to meet you at the front, holding a hand out in greeting. You take it, revelling in the cool press of rings against your skin and the way her nails are a perfect shade of red.
“I’m Cherry Valance. I live next door.”
You flash her a gentle smile, holding back the urge to mumble ‘I gathered’. It probably wouldn’t be a good first impression, especially since you know nobody else here. “Cherry, because of the hair?”
She laughs again, sweeter than before, and you wonder if she charms everyone this easily. “Original, right?” She leans down and picks up one of the boxes; if it were heavy, she doesn’t show it on her face, and for yhat you’re grateful.
Your lips part to speak again when another crash echoes from across the street, the electric whir starting up once more. Your brows draw together in a grimace, and Cherry rolls her eyes, not even glancing in the direction of the garage.
“You learn to tune it out.” She huffs and you trail after her, stacking the boxes in the doorway. Another loud cry of metal.
You’re not so sure.
You brave a brief glance over your shoulder in the direction of the garage once more; the whirring ceases, and a figure appears in front of the car. His hair is messy, falling over his forehead in sweat-soaked waves. Grease stains his forearms, and the chain around his neck catches the light.
He’s attractive from a distance, like one of those guys you would see in the movies. Your heart flutters enough to make you feel stupid, and you drop your gaze as he glances over.
“Well,” you clear your throat, turning back to Cherry. “I appreciate the help.”
“Oh, it’s no problem.” She waves you off, already making the walk back to her house next door. “If you’d like, I can take you out around the town tomorrow."
Relief floods through you, and you nod, maybe a little bit too enthusiastically, but the thought of already making a friend is far too light to tamp down. She leaves with the promise of picking you up midday, her front door closing with a small click and leaving you in the gentle, easy hum of the coast surrounding you.
Instinctively, your eyes wander back to the garage, just for one more final look—the guy is still watching you, one hand shielding his eyes, and your cheeks flush an embarrassing shade of fuchsia.
You raise your hand tentatively in a wave, a smile tugging at your lips. He hesitates—for a moment you think he’s just going to ignore you completely, leaving you feeling humbled and ridiculous—but his head bobs once in a nod, a civil greeting that stirs the dormant butterflies in your chest.
And as you turn to head inside, relishing in the cool of the shade, the heat of his gaze follows you, and you find yourself wondering if maybe a fresh start won’t be so bad at all.
ᯓ★ the curtis brothers have unbelievably gorgeous eyelashes. shockingly enough, they get it from their father.
ᯓ★ sodapop can't go an hour without whistling. it's his addiction. doing the dishes? whistling. working on a car? whistling and singing. getting ready for work? whistling. extra obnoxiously.
ᯓ★ each of the curtis brothers had their little hyperfixations as little kids. for darry, it was construction. anything with neon orange? it was in his room. for sodapop, it was dinosaurs. this kid was spewing dinosaur facts any chance he got. for ponyboy, i like to think his was space. his favorite planet is mercury.
ᯓ★ johnny hates sleeping in a bed. as bad as it is, he's gotten so used to sleeping uncomfortably on hard ground that beds or couches are uncomfortable to sleep on for him.
ᯓ★ if the book was set in the later sixties, steve's favorite artist, without shame, would be dolly parton.
ᯓ★ two-bit rarely ever settles down anywhere. he's like that guy online that just does everything, has every job. (pls get the ref.) literally everybody in tulsa knows who he is because he's never not doing something around town.
ᯓ★ ponyboy unironically writes fanfic of the books he reads or the movies he watches. darry found some of the notebooks he keeps and he was humiliated. darry told the whole gang the next day.
ᯓ★ cherry holds mini concerts in her room whenever she's bored, using an empty coke glass as a microphone.
ᯓ★ when sodapop first heard about beaches, he begged mr. and mrs. curtis to take him to the closest one. when he got told no, he was crushed. he still hasn't been to a beach.
ᯓ★ darry buys canned whipped cream and hides it from his brothers so he can have it all to himself.
ᯓ★ if they existed in the sixties, dallas would constantly be taking the five hour energy shots.
ᯓ★ johnny is a very sentimental person and keeps literally everything anyone has ever given to him. even if he has nowhere nice to keep it, he'll find a way to cherish it forever.
ᯓ★ with ponyboy being the movies and books sibling, and darry not being bothered enough to have an interest besides work, sodapop is definitely the kid who is crazy about music and their records + record player. if anybody else tries to 'mess it up' he will go crazy.
delilah's notes : i really like these actually !!! also, if u don't get the ref of that one guy, here's the tt link !! i also said maybe id post some of my art so .. here's my ralph and matt pages :>
they're not my best works but yk .. no hate okay. no hate. pls. i can't handle it.
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— dallas winston but ... (book acc.) + split into 2 parts , random hcs towards the end
mostly angst, but not that bad :>
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... when darry first welcomed him, he felt scarily uncomfortable. not because of darry, but because he didn't know what real comfort or warmth felt like.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he feels guilty whenever he's 'too mean' to somebody. he doesn't want to be so cold, but the conditions he was raised around forced him to be that way.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he remembers every small detail about everything because nobody else ever did that for him.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he never really found pleasure in doing much of anything. the things he does are just to keep himself moving, or to impress other people. not because he's willing.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he hates his birthday because he thinks it symbolizes yet another year he's spend doing nothing good.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he only started to talk to johnny because he reminded him of a friend he had back in new york.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he hates asking the gang for help. even if darry or someone insists, he'll always deny help of any kind.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... after he ran away, he taught himself how to perfectly hide his emotions, no matter how extreme they were. nobody would ever catch him crying, especially after he got a fresh start.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... the first time he got arrested in tulsa and they asked for a number to call, he froze. he ended up not telling them anything and staying the night there willingly just to get away from the question.
dallas winston but ... (misc + lighter hearted !)
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he's a really good beat boxer for some reason.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he's constantly in debt to buck because he is ALWAYS renting vehicles from him and never paying him back. the only time he paid him back was when he stole money from the dx.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he is a huge ladies guy. this is kind of already known, but if he sees a woman who is, in the slightest bit, attractive? she is not safe from him. unless he has a partner he really likes, he is constantly trying to find somebody else to mess around with.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he cannot take anything seriously. especially when he's with the gang. if serious news comes out, he has to try seriously hard to hold his laughter.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he will, and does throw hissy fits whenever he doesn't get his way. the gang doesn't want to go to the drive in that night? silent treatment for all the rest of the day.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he forces johnny to steal things for him when he doesn't feel like distracting people that day. normally, it doesn't go very well.
𑣲⋆ dallas winston but ... he loves yelling just for fun. we kinda saw that in the field when he yelled at those kids, but it's serious. silent? he starts yelling just to fill the noise, or to entertain himself.
delilah's notes : i kinda didnt know what else to put for the misc ones .. these suck but yk. maybe i can share some of my art of the gang too !! :>>
"I asked chaptGPT" "I asked Google" Yeah well I asked Dallas Winston what to do after I killed someone and he gave me fifty bucks, a jacket, and sent me on my merry way
warnings — mentions of sh, drugs, suicide. if you struggle with these things, do not hesitate to get help or reach out.
dallas winston but ... he only started stealing things back in new york to try and impress his gang.
dallas winston but ... the first time he was threatened with jail time, he was glad he'd finally be able to get away from his father for an extended period of time.
dallas winston but ... as a kid he always dreamed about having some place safe to stay.
dallas winston but ... he learned early on to shut up and deal with everything on his own.
dallas winston but ... he was the johnny of his new york gang.
dallas winston but ... he learned how to hustle people for money to survive.
dallas winston but ... he felt started to feel so numb he felt as if he had to make himself feel something (whether that be through drugs, sh, etc, is up to your interpretation)
dallas winston but ... he was always deathly afraid of being mugged, especially in crowded streets in the city.
dallas winston but ... he always strived to make someone proud.
dallas winston but ... he hated sleeping. sleeping meant he was defenseless, and he hated feeling defenseless.
dallas winston but ... he's always been passively suicidal even without realizing it. when things got worse, he started to act on his thoughts more.
dallas winston but ... he always made big moves in public, or to his gang. not because he was outgoing, but because he didn't want to be forgotten.
delilah's notes : more angsty than i originally wanted but .. oh well ! ponyboy or dallas after tulsa next ?
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