#waysofseeings

dinner date 🍽 marshal au (the one where they keep seeing each other)

"marshal," dallas smirks at ponyboy from the doorway, eyebrows raising, "you and i both know you ain't eat nothing but shit the past few days in this motel. i ain't drive all the way down here so you can just pop ramen in a microwave. you wanna pick my brain, you better treat me real nice."

he's teasing, and yet he's not at all. ponyboy huffs from the bed, hand going up to scratch at the scar he'd gotten from those soc boys back in 1965. "i guess, but you gotta pick the place."

"really making me work, ain't you?"

"this ain't a date," ponyboy says, and the words make everything get a little more tense with the memories of what dinner dates had been between them: ponyboy cooking up something dallas liked, dallas nipping at his ear in the kitchen sometimes, the way they used to fold up on the couch together, after.

the light flickers in dallas' eyes, watching ponyboy stand up from the bed, seeing him roll up his sleeves. neither of them are going to comment about the st. christopher that is still on ponyboy's neck and neither are going to talk about the fact that dallas closes the door behind ponyboy the way they used to close the apartment door.

(and neither of them are going to talk about the fact that later that night, it'll be ponyboy who kisses dallas first, unable to stand it)

diary 📔 justified (molly/raylan, i am not tagging the fandom)

her body is a diary, in a way. he can see the scars she had when she grew up with him in kentucky alongside new ones that he'll never know the details of. she's a trail of hurts that he wants to know more of, that he knows too much about and raylan knows that if she looks at him she might see the same thing.

and that's scary, isn't it?

envelope ✉ the descent

you got in, dallas says immediately when ponyboy opens the mailbox and sees the letter there, thick and solid. he knows, too, what it means when he takes it with a shaking hand. that he's going to college. he's going to oklahoma city, and his childhood really, truly is over.

tomato 🍅 new york au

all dallas wanted to do was come to ponyboy's apartment after a day, eat dinner, and maybe crash on the couch. he didn't want to open the door to what looks like a smorgasbord of food all over everywhere: there's a bunch of bread slices on the counter, mayonnaise, mustard, ketchup all laid out with knives and spoons in jars. there's olives, tomatoes, all kinds of cheese and three loaves of bread of varying kind on there to say nothing of the deli meats that ponyboy is slicing as he moves around the kitchen.

"hell are you doing? feeding the whole damn building?" dallas shuts the door, adjusting the bag as he walks over.

"no," ponyboy says, slicing up some tomatoes with a look of concentration. that grey streak in his hair is getting longer and longer and he glances up, "making sandwiches for my kids."

dallas' eyebrows knit together. they've been official for about two months now and sometimes he's wondered about being with a teacher before. he didn't attend school after ten, and he's pretty damn sure that teachers didn't do this. "ain't those kids got the cafeteria? or their parents?"

"your parents feed you all the time? c'mon, i got orders to do," ponyboy waves the knife to the fridge where there, indeed, is a list. dallas pulls it down, reading off the names and types of sandwiches there, and he wonders what on earth he's gotten into.

orange 🟠 new york au

"for a mistress, he's fuckin' poor," ace remarks as he looks around the apartment. he should probably keep the smart remark to himself, but when you've got a knife wound and this is the first time he's meeting dallas' little omega he's been fucking around with, well. he could say whatever he could. he grunts when dallas shoves his face, but ace just continues to sweat and lay on the shitty couch he's got. and it's real shitty, "orange? the hell you want an orange fucking couch for?"

there's the opening of cabinets and dallas bites out, "shut up and keep your insides in."

"it ain't that bad," ace says, and then the colors swirl together and he thinks he's gonna throw up right on this stupid fucking couch.

sage 🍵 new york au

"you're carmine, his uncle," ponyboy shuffles nervously at the door, unsure of what to do or say. he's never been invited to dallas' family... get togethers, and seeing his uncle here makes him well aware of the lack of family he's got -- and how very, very real dallas' relative wealth was.

"yes, yes, come on in," carmine smiles at him, hair fluffy and distinctly omega. ponyboy walks in, hoping that he's up to snuff. the town house is nice; the kitchen is a mint green, and the town house has a comfy feeling to it that he doesn't think of whenever dallas has described his family's places. he toes off his shoes, and his eyes catch the array of bookshelves brimming with books carmine owns.

aching bones 💖 broken bond au (chris vers.)

"do your teeth still ache when you think about him?" andrew asks as he looks up at dallas.

once again, dallas remembers that he's not here to get over ponyboy; he's not here to really dissect his relationship with him so much as he's here to get better for the little boy that's due in three months.

"no," he lies.

bad ideas (and good results) 💖 broken bond au (chris vers.)

it hurts him to see this little boy with the same smile as dallas, to see him with sylvia's hair, to see that all he wants is a friend here, to be held, to make him happy.

ponyboy could never hate chris for being dallas' kid; he can be jealous, he can be sad and confused because maybe -- maybe dalals did the one thing he had always never wanted to happen and it felt a little like rubbing his nose into it.

he has to ignore it and he does, taking chris' hand in his, swallowing the tears and devastation and says, "c'mon, honey, let's get you out of the mud."

checkmate, babe 💖 broken bond au (chris vers.)

he lies in bed, poring over memories, happy that no one can hear him over the christmas dinner still going on downstairs. he chews at his lip, trying to sift through the last few months they'd had together the way he used to only instead of trying to look for just why dallas would've left him out of the blue, he looks for any clue at all that dallas had cheated on him.

thirteen and twenty eight are asked and answered!!

vodka 🥃 stray dog au

"you ain't got any alcohol?" dallas knows that he shouldn't ask that. curtis is a cop, no matter how young (why someone wanted to be a cop at twenty-two, he didn't get) and pretty he looks, and dallas is here out of his good will. he knows that, and he treads carefully, not wanting to be kicked out, and yet. and yet, he had to make the joke.

"i do, but if you want some, i ain't stopping you," curtis shrugs, stirring the grits. "i ain't a tight ass about it. can't guarantee it'll be good, though."

he isn't expecting that. he clenches and unclenches his hand, looking at the bottle on top of the fridge. he still thinks that this is one time, that curtis will let him in his house, away from the cold, refuse to arrest him. it's a one time kindness, and then he'll be back on the street.

(and then it isn't. curtis spoons grits onto his plate and says, "you can stay as long as you want to. i know you just wanted me to drag you in for a meal, some place warm. but you don't deserve that, dallas.")

(and he stays.)

orange peel 🍊 stray dog au

"don't you dare drink that," ponyboy grumbles as he shuffles into the kitchen. dallas looks up from where he's got the orange juice poised over the cup and he can't help the electric feeling of dislike that races through him at the sight of how short ponyboy's hair is. he doesn't like the changes ponyboy has to go through in order to be a marshal, from the fact that in two weeks, he'll be alone in this house to the fact that ponyboy has had to cut off the pretty auburn hair he's always had, always wanted to reach up and yank. seeing now in the kitchen before breakfast just makes the dislike worse. "i wanna finish it."

dallas runs his thumb over the side of the carton. he thinks that in a few weeks, ponyboy won't be here to care for him, to care about him. that in a few weeks, he'll be alone, and ponyboy will only exist through phone calls and letters.

so he offers the carton to him without a word of protest.

safety yellow ⚠ stray dog au

he doesn't like the hospital. he doesn't like that he's here again in so many years, looking at ponyboy in a bed, fatigued with thinning hair and labored breathing.

ever since ponyboy went to glynco, it's been bad. ever since he took those suppressants, he just hasn't been right. and now he's here in a bed look smaller than ever and dallas hates it. hates that the man who showed him kindness is currently too out of whack to cook a meal, to smile at him, to cajole him.

he bounces his knee in the chair, and hopes that this will be over soon.

wine dregs 🍷 stray dog au

"oh, so you're the stray little puppy ponyboy took in, ain't you?" curly jeers at dallas as he walks into buck's. dallas pulls his lip back in a sneer; he's never liked curly ever since ponyboy told him that he used to be involved him him -- out of sheer principle for the crush he's nursed for pony since he was seventeen, and that turned to hatred after pony had told him about what curly had actually done during their relationship -- and the way curly looks at him now is even worse under buck's lights. "you still nipping at his heels?" he laughs; and his little goons laugh with him.

dallas wants to curl his hand into a fist. he wants to lay into curly's nose until it snaps. until it's flat on his face. until his blood on his fingers, and curly can't say or do anything else but whimper in pain.

he can't, though. he's due back home. he's only here to pick up enough money from buck to cover ponyboy's medications, and go.

top five period pieces (in film)

1. going back to my "roots" with devdas (2002). i don't think aishwarya rai is that good of an actress but i think she slots in well here with SRK and madhuri dixit both firing on all cylinders. Sanjay Leela Bhansali is kinda phoning it in lately but i think he was at the top of his game here from the costumes to the story to the songs to the cast that makes this.

2. bram stoker's dracula isn't really a period drama "period drama" but you know what? it fits. and i love the reincarnation story, i love a man going insane over a woman he loves, i love COPPOLA and it's going here.

3. come on. do i have to say it? fine okay. the outsiders is THEE period piece film. no one can dissuade me of this extremely correct opinion. the godfather was just a training to be able to do this movie!!

4. "hey cree do you have good taste?" "idk. i have my taste and i say titanic still bangs."

5. continuing to answer this question as chaotically as possible, i can watch asoka like a thousand times. look at roshni se and tell me it isn't good. to the point where i had a college class on indian history, saw we were watching this and alerted my prof that i owned it and didn't need to be there. and turned in the paper were supposed to write about it that night. it got an A.

top five dance numbers

1. i'm using this to promote my fave indian cinema numbers too. so let's start with laila main laila that still motherfucking SLAPS. it's not a really good "dance" number but it's a great one to kick off the mood. however, if we're talking purely for dance, let's consult my husband for chaiyya chaiyya simply because... how can you not love them dancing on a train?

2. hey did you know akon did a song for an indian superhero film? no? well he did. and i saw this movie four times in the theter and every single time, the theater got up and danced our asses off to chammak challo. and i mean every. single. showing. how can humans be bad if we all get up and dance to chammak challo together?

3. this spot belongs to el tango de roxanne. but it's not here cause there's no good version on youtube and that's a fucking crime.

4. born to hand jive is better than it should be, i'm afraid lmfao.

things you said when you kissed me goodnight 🌙 wedded to austin mafiaverse

the last thing dallas wants to do is go to sleep. he doesn't want to shut his eyes, he doesn't want to be pulled into dreams. he wants to stay here, right here with ponyboy, in this bed in this hotel. he wants to pull him closer, wants to slow things down and keep it here even if he knows that it can't happen. that when they wake up in the morning, he'll have to find the wedding ring, and slip it back on ponyboy's finger. he'll have walk ponyboy to the door and he'll have to pretend that he and ponyboy weren't together, that ponyboy hadn't been here.

he'll have to watch ponyboy go back to austin. he'll have to watch austin claim him, he he'll have to bite his tongue and ponyboy will have to go forward, as austin's husband and not his.

ponyboy's thumb runs across dallas' hip, and dallas says, "kid?"

"yeah?" ponyboy's voice is gentle, quiet.

"don't go without me," dallas says, and ponyboy digs his nail into dallas' hip. dallas tips his head forward, and finds the crook of ponyboy's neck. he breathes in deep, and he only resists dreams for so long.

things you said in the dark 🌑marshal pony/dal

rain's falling. buck's is quieter than usual and ponyboy is sitting here in his bed, eyes big in his face, his hair long and his hand around his mid section. he's graduating school in twenty-four hours and they both know what that means, what it's always meant ever since he left his house to live with the shepards, ever since he got a job at fifteen, ever since johnny had died and left a gaping hole in their lives.

dallas has known it, has always known it. that ponyboy will leave and once he leaves, dallas is gone, too. this is the fork in the road, this is where their paths will diverge forever with no guarantee that they'll ever loop back and he doesn't want it to pass, yet knows it has to.

so here they are, in the dark, knowing that as soon as he gets his diploma, ponyboy will go to college, to be a marshal. that as soon as he gets his diploma, dallas will finally call texas back, and he'll disappear to.

and for now, he lies next to ponyboy in the dark, and he says: you talk to darry?

no. ponyboy answers, his eyes focused on dallas' cheek, on the scar there. you talk to buck, tell him you leavin' him high and dry?

that gets a gruff laugh out of dallas. they both know the score. silence lapses for a moment, and then ponyboy says, i'm gonna miss you, dally.

and it hurts, doesn't it? it hurts so much to know that this is possibly their last goodbye, the last moment that dallas will see that their scars are still connected, the last moment that dallas knows that they'll have for years and years and he says, i'll miss you too, kid.

for the first time in years, ponyboy doesn't correct him that he isn't a kid. he should close the space, kiss ponyboy one last time even though they agreed to stop months ago. he should dig his fingers in his side, he should keep him here and he knows that he can't, that it wouldn't be right.

things you said in a hotel room 🏨 marshal pony/mafia!dal

"where'd you get that?" ponyboy asks, his finger running across the scar on dallas' neck.

(they aren't talking about it. they aren't talking about the fact that dallas broke into his house to say hello, they aren't talking about the fact that ponyboy still has the bullet wound he took, they aren't talking about the fact that they shouldn't be here together, they aren't talking about the fact that the st. christopher still hangs around ponyboy's neck.)

dallas challenges, "where'd you get that?" and he points to the scar on side of ponyboy's head, too close to his ear and eye for his liking. "the guy who did that--"

"is serving prison time in ohio," ponyboy pulls dallas closer, expression determined. "where?"

for u.... let's do izzy :)

👊 PUNCH: are they quick to violence?

she is absolutely not.... she's a very internal girl, which i think is why she gets along with vicky so well (who is much quicker to violence, and who has to be mentioned bc they are best friends!!). she's a lot more level-headed and i think would only engage violence as self defense

🥞 PANCAKE: what is their comfort breakfast?

i feel like it's oatmeal, because it's filling and cheap, which was useful when she was being raised by a single mother and also when she was a broke grad student 70s california

📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what's their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

she doesn't mind it! she gets a little flustered if it's a date taking a pic of her tho. i imagine her scrunching her shoulders up just a little bit, hand tucked behind her back, but smiling real big :) i love her! she takes pictures of cool looking buildings and of her friends (lots of pics of vicky when she visits her on campus <3)

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

she likes rock music! rip to dizzy but we all know she went to see traffic with vicky that one time their senior year and then dropped acid with a boy she ended up dating 🥰 she also likes alice cooper LOL but her song is absolutely take me home by john denver... once again dizzy was a masterpiece even if it was 95% original fic. i should revisit it as original fic, actually