I Don't Know What To Do Right Now

I don't know what to do right now

Like, I wanna write, and I know I've got requests but none of them are speaking to me right now

I dunno

bleh

i hate sylvia i hate sylvia i hate sylvia i hate sylvia and i hate all u fuckinf sylvia glazers like did u actually read the book UGHSHSHS she has too many glazers for a character with no lines she is literally a bitch she isn’t a iconic baddie serving cunt please enough

AND WHY DID I SEE SOMEONE SAY SHE WAS A VICTIMMM?? COMPARING HER TO CHERRY VALANCE?? LIKE UMMM WATATATT

The urge to write something is crazyyy

I don't have any ideas tho and I'm not in the mood to write Outsiders stuff right now

But the thing I want to write for is something I'm not far in enough to grasp their personalities and the wiki page doesnt have shi for their personalities and is rlly overwhelming with the unecessary info

Might just binge the movies for it and get an idea of their personalities from there

I'm just in a meh mood tbh

Help I need someone's thoughts and opinions on this matter😭

I'm gonna start making a masterlist post

But I'll work on it on my computer because my computer is just better lmao

Anywho, yeah

I'm making a masterlist of all of my works that I'll hopefully remember to update

This made me tear up wtf (it's really good though)

thinking about pony dying at that fountain.

Johnny sitting covered in blood, Pony’s head resting in his lap as he begs him to wake up, it’s not funny anymore, just breathe again.

Darry and Soda collecting the gang by the time it’s morning and neither of them have seen Johnny or Pony since last night, conducting a search of the entire town.

Darry being so worried as they search, because what if Pony didn’t even want to see him, what if Pony really hated him now. And what makes it worse is Soda won’t even speak to Darry, not after he hurt their baby brother.

When they find Johnny, he’s sitting against the fountain and by now, he’s freezing but he can’t get up, he can’t even speak to Dally when he grabs his arm, because Pony is gone, Pony’s not breathing.

Soda immediately kneeling down by Pony, thinking he’s asleep or something, and then seeing his unblinking eyes, his blue face, his cold hands, and just sobbing.

Meanwhile, Darry is just standing there knowing what’s happened but not knowing what to do, and he’s just numb, he can’t move or speak or even breathe.

Dally having to go to the police station, and the cops hardly believing him because of his record, but he looks so desperate and broken that they hear him out and follow him to the park.

Steve, Dally, and Two-Bit having to literally drag Soda away from Pony, sobbing and screaming, and it hurts them so much to see essentially their little brother dead, and the rest of their friends breaking down.

Dally having to practically carry Johnny back to the Curtis house, because he can’t speak or walk or do anything but think about Pony’s eyes that he would always watch, so cold and lifeless now.

Darry retreating to his room because they all must hate him for this as much as he hates himself.

Soda still sobbing and clutching onto one of Pony’s sweatshirts while Steve just sits next to him and rubs his back, trying not to cry himself. Dally’s eyes, somehow even more cold and hard than before, as he makes sure Johnny is okay, even though he’s not gonna be okay, none of them ever will be.

Johnny not being able to speak for weeks, months after Pony’s death, and still struggling with it after that, because Pony was the only one he could really talk to and now Pony was gone.

Darry getting huge flashes of deja vu from his parents death— immediately after, he’s thrown into planning. At his parents death, it was a way for him to calm down and organize his thoughts, but now he’s just too tired, it’s just the routine that he has to do.

Them all pitching in for a gravestone with his name on it. It’s not even his full name. Pony Curtis, 1953-1967. Them not even having a funeral because the cops won’t hear them out, why should they care about some greaser?

The cops ruling it a suicide and none of them quite believing it, but there’s always that thought in the back of Darry’s mind— what if Pony just got too fed up when he hit him? What if he riled up those Socs on purpose?

All Dallas can think is— he’s 14. He’s only a kid. (He can’t bring himself to use past tense.)

A week later, the social worker appearing at their door. Soda hasn’t spoken to Darry for that entire week, but he looks back at him with tears in his eyes as the social worker takes him away, going to ship him off to a boys home.

Darry breaking down as soon as he leaves, holding onto Soda’s old flannel and Pony’s stuffed bunny that he used to claim he was too old for, just sitting on the couch and crying until he falls asleep.

Two-Bit finding him the next morning and trying to hug him but Darry flinches away because the last time he’d touched someone he’d hit his little brother, who’d then gotten killed.

Steve watching his best friend going from a happy boy who’s always smiling to someone barely able to respond to his hugs or words of comfort. Steve knowing that Soda will never be the same, and he can’t do anything about that.

Steve joking that he won’t be competing for Soda’s #1 best friend spot now, and immediately regretting it when Soda breaks down in tears. Steve, who usually can just be there and Soda will be comforted even if Steve’s not good at that, standing there helpless as Soda cries.

The gang jumping at the opportunity to have a rumble, and even when the Socs start retreating they keep running after him because they need somewhere to get this energy out, to get some sort of revenge.

Darry having to be pulled off of Paul long after he'd passed out, and just falling apart refusing to let anyone touch him because that's what caused Pony to run away, to get killed, and he doesn't want to hurt anyone else, to cause anyone else's death because of him.

Darry just sitting in the corner of their living room afterwards unable to look at anyone because he's never cried like that in front of them, especially not his brother(s). Him feeling horrible when Soda gets up, still injured, and tells them it's way past his curfew and that he's gotta get going.

Soda, as he walks home, passing by the park where Pony died and just breaking down in tears. Him not making it back until the next morning, because he's crying so much he passes out. Him wishing maybe some Socs could come and jump him too, because he deserves it more than Ponyboy did.

Two-Bit drinking that night, more than he had before, because he just doesn't want to think about it anymore. He's had enough of tragedy and misfortune and pain, and drinking will make him forget about it, if only for a little while. Him regretting it when he wakes up even worse than before, but getting drunk again and again because the good parts of it overweigh the bad.

Dally turning even more cold and hard, and not trusting anyone except for Johnny. Him jumping Socs anytime he comes across them even if he's outnumbered and comes back more injured than victorious, because he's doing this for Pony, he's doing this for his gang.

Darry taking Johnny in as a little brother, and he knows it's not the same but it's as close as he's gonna get to having his normal routine, and that's pretty much the only thing that will calm him down. Darry finding a book of ASL in his parents' old room. Him trying to learn some of it so he can communicate with Johnny, knowing that Johnny and Pony learned it, but giving up after a few tries because he sees the hurt in Johnny's eyes.

Soda getting a letter while he's in the boys' home, and hoping against all hope that it's someone from his gang, wishing that it was his little brother even if there's no way. Him opening the letter and it's from Sandy, saying that she's moved to Florida and is breaking up with him.

Soda nearly throwing up when he's finished reading it, because he's lost everyone. First his parents, then his little brother, and with him the rest of his friends, and now his girlfriend. Soda not being able to talk about the letter for months afterwards, even when Darry finally finds a way for him to come home.

Steve sneaking into the boys' home one day and getting shoved away when he tries to put a hand on Soda's shoulder. Him feeling horrible that he's not good enough, that his best friend will never be the same, but shoving a chocolate bar into Soda's hands before he leaves, because before Pony died, Soda would always feel better after he ate one.

Darry eyeing the knife on the counter while he's cooking, or loosening his hold on the ladder just a little bit at his roofing job, because it's his fault Pony's dead. Darry not eating until he absolutely has to. Darry launching himself into getting Soda back or caring for Johnny, because he's worthless otherwise.

Darry flinching whenever someone tries to touch him, or anytime he feels the slightest hint of anger, because he doesn't want to hurt anyone else. Darry panicking when Two-Bit slams a bottle down on the counter, because loud noises remind him too much of hitting Ponyboy. Darry wanting nothing more to hug Soda when he finally gets home, but not wanting to lose his other brother, too, at his fault.

Just... Pony dying at the fountain.

School Projects

Started: August 11, 2024

Finished: August 12, 2024 Summary: A month long partner project in class. Ponyboy and Reader are paired up and find themselves growing closer as time goes on. . . Contains: - Fluff - Second-person PoV - GN! Reader - Strangers(?) to Lovers - Reader x Ponyboy - no use of Y/N Warnings: - Reader is (at least) decent at writing essays - very little dialogue

You were in your History class, listening to your teacher drone on and on about something you’d started to tune out a while ago by now. Idly tapping the end of your pencil on your desk while your head was resting on your arm, only little snippets of the teacher’s rambling came into your brain like, “assigned partners”, and “month-long project”. The class was quiet, really, with some girls gossiping in hushed whispers, some doodling in the margin of their papers or fidgeting with obvious boredom like yourself, some guys discreetly mocking the teacher and making their friends snicker. Only a few kids actually listened or took notes of what Ms. Thompson was saying. Your eyes scanned the classroom, watching everyone do their own thing, then your eyes went to Ponyboy. You knew him to some degree, but you were really strangers, only knowing what each other’s names were but never really interacting at all. You knew he was a quiet kid, that he was a Greaser, and that he liked to read from what you’d seen, but nothing more than that.

When you finally tuned back in to Ms. Thompson’s ramblings, she said, “I will write the pairs on the board. Once you find your and your partner’s names, you will sit next to your partner and take notes and come up with an essay and a visual presentation, including drawn images and excerpts from text books and other resources on the rise and fall of the Roman Empire and how it impacted society. This project is due a month from now; if it is overdue, you will get an F on it and it will impact your final grade in this class.”

Ms. Thompson began writing the pairs and the instructions on the chalkboard, your classmates either looking at it in anticipation or murmuring to one another, presumably about who they hoped their partners would be. When Ms. Thompson finished writing on the chalkboard, she sat down at her desk and began to work or grade things from other classes, and there were audible groans or excited ‘yes’s from your classmates as they read the list of pairs. You scanned the list for your name, and you were paired up with Ponyboy Curtis. You just hoped that you both could relatively get along.

The students began to go to their partners and began chatting about what they would be doing for the project, how they’d design it, and who’s doing what. Ponyboy soon came over to your desk and pulled up a chair, sitting across from you with his notebook put on the desktop. The awkwardness almost palpable. ”So. . . What should we do for the project?” He asked, awkwardly breaking the silence, opening his notebook to a blank page and jotting down the instructions, due date, etc. ”I don’t know. . . Maybe a tri-fold poster or something?” You suggested. “Sure. We can do that.” Ponyboy replied, jotting it down.

After a bit more discussion, you came to the agreement that Ponyboy would do the art and visual bit of the tri-fold poster and you would write the essay. You agreed to meet up at Ponyboy’s house after school to start working on the project and that would be the main plan for meetups unless you both went to the library or something.

You walked with Ponyboy after school to his house, and you went to his shared bedroom and began studying, having taken out a few history books on the time period of the Roman Empire and the rise and fall of it, etc. You both started working and were chatting together. You found out that Ponyboy is actually a really nice guy; that he enjoyed watching sunsets, about his family life, and he found out more about you in turn. You both started to bond over time as you both worked on this project, and when you finished writing the essay you began to help him with the tri-fold poster and wrote down excerpts from the resources you had and maybe adding the occasional drawing or detail to the poster or maybe helped him with coloring it.

Before long, Ponyboy had started inviting you to hang out together outside of working on the project, like going to Dairy Queen together or maybe walking around town together, and you had quickly become friends with him. It was great. Ponyboy was a great friend and a great partner for projects, albeit you started to get a warm, almost fuzzy feeling around him; finding yourself looking at him for a few moments more than the casual glance in classes, taking in the details of his appearance. . .

Time flies by, and that definitely applied to the month to do the history project. You’d finished and the due date had come up quickly, but you both were content with how the final result came out. You’d ended up doing a small presentation for the tri-fold poster, along with your other classmates for their own visual presentations. Some kids even went to the lengths of making a class interactive bit and made handouts for the class. You’d ended up getting an A on the project, which you were both proud about, obviously.

You decided to hang out together over the weekend and went to a local diner that had affordable, cheap prices, and you’d had a good time there with him like always.

Once it got later, he walked you with you home and the walk was relatively quiet, only minimal talk happening between the two of you.

After a bit, Ponyboy had broken the somewhat comfortable silence by saying, “Hey, uh, can I tell you somethin’?” with a bit of a shy look in his eyes. “Yeah.” You answered him, looking over at him while you waited for him to tell you whatever he wanted to tell you. You’d gotten pretty close to your house by now.

“I, uh, really like you. A more-than-friends kind of like.” Ponyboy admitted.

You stood there for a moment, processing the new information while he waited for your response with bated breath. He had a crush on you. . .

“I really like you, too, Ponyboy. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.” You told him, to which he let out an exhale of relief.

You both kept walking back to your house, and when you finally got there, you stopped at the front of your house, pulling away from Ponyboy and going to back into your house before you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, “See you on Monday, Ponyboy.” You told him, then turning and walking into your house, leaving Ponyboy struck dumb with a lovestruck smile on his face as he watched you open the front door and go in. He couldn’t wait ‘till Monday. . .

Sorry if this is bad; I'm a bit rusty because I haven't done any writing - let alone romance writing - in ages (╥﹏╥) Requests are open :)