#chippedshake

i just. hmmmmm. there’s so much with them i believe. like musical steve lore is kinda jumbled from what i know but we know abt steve’s black panther and black resistance patches, potentially having ran away from nyc with dally, the tiny bits of characterization we get in the musical moments. like especially ggah.

him and soda both have that reckless streak. they got sharp smiles and they always racing to do that next thing and steve is kinda like dally in the way he don’t listen to no authority and rules, but he’s less doing shit just to do shit. soda and steve are sparks that ignite each other into a consuming wildfire. i think their romance reflects that. and i think that like. steve being untrusting and guarded and independent and soda being wild and always moving and so honest. like they’re such a dynamic that’s so bite and bite with each other, like quick snappy dialogue.

i don’t wanna say they’re like. on and off? but they’re definitely like. they get in little arguments a lot and it’s a regular occurrence for darry to be like “steve mad at ya today?” “yall arguing today?” and the answer always varies, from soda being petty to steve being grumbly and the answer usually changes again that evening. but they’re each other’s Person. like. they find that safety and that security in each other. which is why it hurts so much when they can’t be there (post canon….. they’re angsty trust me). but soda can be fully emotional with steve, angry and annoyed and sobbing and giggly and depressed and lonely. and steve can find that home in soda that he don’t have, that security and comfort and matched personality and fire and heart.

y’know, i’ve thought about taht. soda won’t leave, but everyone else might. steve tests the waters with darry because he isn’t sure if he’ll ditch him too, it the other one he can really trust is johnny, but even then soda and johnny are two different people and steve always goes to soda first.

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he says "what were you doing, walking by your lonesome?"

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he says "beer for breakfast? really?"

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he says "where's Superman?"

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he puts his all into the rumble for johnny

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he runs out of the house with three broken ribs

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he stumbles forwards, about to fall if soda weren't to hold him back

Darry getting home after a long day and going to grab the grocery list before heading back out only to find it isn't there. He sighs and opens the fridge, which now has everything that was on the list, along with a sticky note that reads "on the old man".

Dally being forced to set the table with Steve. Looking over the knives, searching for the one with the red handle (the best one) and finding it already at his spot.

Johnny showing up at the lot after wandering away from the Curtises' because Darry and Ponyboy were fighting, to find a thick blanket he recognises as the one Steve always brings when he's kicked out.

Two-Bit getting up and walking out of his house, dreading the long walk to the Curtises' the day after Ponyboy showed up at the hospital, and finding Steve waiting in his car, thumbing through some magazine he definitely doesn't find as interesting as he tells Two-Bit it is.

Ponyboy, eight years old, going to the movies with his parents, his brothers, and Johnny, who his parents insist on inviting everywhere, and talking everyone’s ear off about what he liked about it. Johnny, just shy of ten years old, being the only one to respond as excitedly.

Ponyboy, eight years old, walking home with Darry, Steve, Soda, and Johnny, making quiet conversation with him about the kids at school and trying to convince Johnny that Darry isn't as scary as he seems, just older and trying to be intimidating.

Ponyboy, nine years old, glued at the hip to Johnny, hardly spending a minute without him despite the age difference.

Ponyboy, nine years old, waking up to a knock on the door in the middle of the night and finding Johnny, barely able to hold himself up, face swelling, blood pouring out of his nose. Mrs Curtis coming out and patching Johnny up and telling Ponyboy to go back to sleep, but Ponyboy refusing because Johnny's his friend, so he stays with him for hours, whispering assurances, telling him he's going to be fine as he tries to ignore his shaking hands and the tremble in his voice. Rage sweltering in his chest and realising that at that moment he could kill someone.

Ponyboy, nine years old, falling asleep at Johnny's side, curled up against him in his room, Johnny's arms wrapped around him, tissues and gauze and medicine bottles littered around them.

Ponyboy, ten years old, reading the books Johnny's been assigned at school out loud because "they seem interesting, Johnny, it has nothing to do with you". Johnny pretending like he believes him when Ponyboy says he's just in the mood to read the chapters Johnny has for homework.

Ponyboy, almost eleven, telling Johnny over and over that he isn't stupid, school just isn't made for him and it doesn't matter that he's being held back, but knowing that none of it is getting through to Johnny.

Ponyboy, eleven years old, spending hours upon hours alone with Johnny in silence, doing their homework or drawing or reading or just thinking, living in a bubble where words aren't necessary to talk. Walking away with a greater understanding of each other than anyone else has.

Ponyboy, eleven years old, showing Johnny his drawings of the gang, trying to ignore how Johnny's face is appearing twice as often as everyone else's, and Johnny stopping on one drawing in particular, his breath caught in his throat. The drawing being one that had taken Ponyboy days to finish, Johnny's face as he watched the sunset, calm and awed by the beauty. The drawing matching Johnny's face at that moment exactly. Johnny asking to keep that one and Ponyboy not doubting it for a minute and ripping the page out.

Ponyboy, twelve years old, going to his first official fight against the Shepard gang and teaming up with Johnny against a medium-sized guy, working together seamlessly and practically reading each other's minds

Ponyboy, thirteen years old, finding out his parents are dead and going numb, unfeeling, not knowing what's happening. Not coming out of it until late at night, when he wanders downstairs and finds Johnny patching himself up and wonders why his mom isn't there, helping him. Holding back tears – for himself, his parents, his brothers, for Johnny – as he cleans Johnny's wounds and promises everything will get better.

Ponyboy, thirteen years old, falling asleep in Johnny's arms again, but they've done it so many times it's second nature to readjust themselves so they both feel protected.

Ponyboy, thirteen years old, finding Johnny in the lot with the rest of the gang and being beyond horrified, frozen with shock, unable to do anything but stare as Soda holds Johnny and they get him back to their house. Johnny asking him, in a croaky voice just before they fall asleep, to go get his jeans jacket. Ponyboy finding his drawing of Johnny, folded into neat quarters in the pocket and Johnny smiling softly when he sees it and whispering "thank you" and both of them knowing it's for so much more than bringing him the drawing.

Ponyboy, fourteen years old, blond and quietly crying himself to sleep in a church far away from home. Johnny waking up and comforting him like Pony's done for him so many times. Both of them pretending it's too cold so they have to sleep huddled up, acting like it has nothing to do with comfort

Ponyboy, fourteen years old, screaming, pleading for Johnny to come out because all the kids are out already, come out, please, Johnny, it's not safe

Ponyboy, fourteen years old, visiting Johnny in the hospital and knowing he won't make it, but shoving it down because he can't imagine a world without him.

Ponyboy, fourteen years old, sending Two-Bit to go get a book so he can have alone time with Johnny, and not needing to say anything for both of them to know this is probably the last time they'll be together.

Ponyboy, fourteen years old, pouring all his frustration and rage into the rumble.

Ponyboy, fourteen years old, not being able to break down next to the hospital bed because if he doesn't go get his brothers, Dally might do something stupid.

(It doesn’t make a difference.)

Ponyboy, fourteen years old, sick with grief and not knowing how to tell people that Johnny wasn't just his buddy, they had something different.

Ponyboy, fourteen years old, opening a letter and finding another sheet of paper that falls out. Knowing what it is before he opens it. Tear drops staining the drawing, making Johnny cry as he watches the sunset at twelve years old.

Ponyboy, fifteen years old, forced to pretend like nothing happened and dating a girl – Cathy – even though he knows he doesn't feel the way he should towards her.

Ponyboy, seventeen years old, realising he was now older than Johnny would ever be.

Ponyboy, eighteen years old, getting married to a girl he definitely doesn't feel the way he should towards.

Ponyboy, twenty years old, running to the hospital because Soda was in the wrong place at the wrong time in a rally in New York of all places and now they don't know if he’s going to make it and oh god, not another one.

Ponyboy, twenty years old, holding his breath until his brother answers him and tells him to stop worrying with a forced smile.

Ponyboy, twenty-two years old and realising that he's never loved anyone the way Sodapop loves Steve and loved Sandy, not Johnny, not Cathy, not anyone else, realising he's broken.

Ponyboy, twenty-five, having his second child but first son and not doubting for a moment as he calls him Johnny despite the fact that he can't remember his voice and needs the drawing to remember his face.

Ponyboy, thirty years old, sitting his wife down because this isn't fair to her, telling her he doesn't love her like that, but he does love her. He loves her but the same way he loves his brothers and Steve and Two-Bit and–... and all of them. Her, breaking in front of him, but putting up a strong front and telling him they'll stay together for Johnny and Kristen.

Ponyboy, forty-two years old, finally getting a divorce now that their kids don't live with them anymore.

Ponyboy, fifty years old, happier than he's ever been, living with a group of friends and calling his children regularly.

Ponyboy, sixty-five years old, watching his brother legally marry Steve and shoving down the familiar twinge of not being able to feel any of that.

Ponyboy, seventy-three years old, with a grandchild coming out to him with these words he's never heard before and his mind is swimming with aromantic and asexual and queer-platonic.

Ponyboy, seventy-three years old, talking to his grandchild about something that isn't platonic and isn't romantic, but something different, not less, not more, but different. A bond that runs deep and doesn't fall into these easy categories and Ponyboy holding back tears as he remembers painstakingly drawn pictures and night spent wrapped around each other.

Ponyboy, seventy-three years old and breaking down in his room because he finally found the words to say what he felt and Johnny wasn't here to find them with him, and he would never know that was what it was.

Ponyboy, seventy-three years old, being found by his brothers as he sobs with the drawing in his hands. Soda and Darry sitting down on either side of him and wrapping their arms around him and Steve rubbing circles on the back of his hand and Two-Bit telling him stories about Johnny because even if he didn’t say why he was crying they all knew.

Ponyboy, seventy-five years old, meeting his grandchild's partner and damn near crying but holding back the tears and wishing the two of them the best before pretending to need to take his heart medicine.

Ponyboy, eighty-three years old, going in his sleep, dreaming of tending to wounds and carefully drawing soft faces.