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“Is it showing off my brand new lower back tattoo?”
Synopsis…! Lynn gets herself a new tattoo, but is scared of how the gang will react — but it’s the way Dally reacts that catches her off guard.
She’d meant to tell them — honest — she just forgot.
A week prior, Lynn went out and decided to treat herself, inevitably having the bright idea to get a tattoo on her lower back. She’d wanted one for years anyway, and now that she’s eighteen, she can do whatever the hell she wants.
Somehow, though, she managed to forget to tell the gang. Despite the fact they’re some of her best friends, it just didn't feel like something to speak about with them –Angela Shepard, however, is. She was the first and only person she’s told, and because she’s Angela, she loved the design.
“Oh my god, it’s so hot! I might get one too, now! We should match-!” She then blabbered on for an hour about nonsense.
For a while after she got it, she’d simply forgotten to tell them. The design was often covered by pants, anyways. One day, though, her silly little secret gets revealed in a rather odd manner…
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It was blazing hot out, normal for a May morning in Tulsa, and Lynn decided to wear a pair of low rise jeans and a cropped tank top, paired with her leather jacket. It’s nearly 80 degrees out, she’s not going to be caught dead in anything else.
“Hey, ya’ll! She calls out, as she and Johnny enter the Curtis house, her typical grin on her face.
A mantra of “hey”s and “hello”s echo throughout the house, all voices familiar and comforting.
“Darry, is the A.C. still broke?” She asks, sitting down on the couch.
“‘Course it is, Lynn. I ain’t a plumber, I’m a roofer.” His response is what she expected, so with a small huff, she takes off her jacket, tossing it away.
Her lower back is inevitably exposed, and guess who’s the first to see the tattoo? Dallas.
He rubs a hand over his face at the sight, mumbling curses under his breath. For several seconds, he does nothing but sit there, staring. His gaze locked on her back with pupils blown wide.
He’s the only one to notice, apparently, based on the fact nobody else has said a word — because we all know they would.
But the moment she’s bending over to grab a soda off the coffee table? He’s a goner.
“Fuck, man…” He murmurs softly, glancing away and adjusting his jeans ever so subtly. His hands find her hips the moment she’s near, tugging her between his legs without a second thought.
“Doll… what the hell is this?” He asks, smoothing a hand over the tattoo, fingers tracing the ridges.
“Oh, uhm, just a tattoo?” Lynn replies, feigning nonchalance with every bone in her body.
At the sound of her words, unfortunately, everyone in the room turns to her. Steve and Two-Bit quit wrestling, Soda stops being their referee, Pony looks up from his book and Johnny tears his gaze away from looking over his shoulder.
Lynn stares at them, her expression blank, as if such a predicament is normal.
“IS THAT A TATTOO??” A shocked Pony gasps, breaking the silence that had been hanging in the air like a taught string. That makes everyone run over, their voices overlapping as they all ask frantically about the new addition to her body.
“When did you get it?”
“Did it hurt?”
“Why the hell did you want it?”
“Not gonna lie, it’s kinda hot….”
At that comment from Two-Bit, Dally stomps on his foot, the hand around Lynn’s waist tightening as the other man yelps.
The whole situation is… interesting, to say the least. She can’t help basking in the attention, showing the thing off with a wide grin.
“Yeah, it didn't hurt much. Which was kinda surprising, since the skin there’s supposed to be sensitive or somethin’. I wanna get more soon, but they’re damn expensive.”
All the while, Dally is watching from the couch, icy eyes locked onto her back.
Eventually, the commotion dies down, and Lynn takes her spot beside Dally, gaze stuck on the TV before her playing Mickey Mouse. But Dallas – of course – is still thinking of that goddamn tattoo. The way it looked on her skin, the design she’d chosen, the image of her laying on the table.
He can't quit thinking about it, and it’s driving him nuts. Why can’t his mind just let it go?
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From that point on, whenever he gets the chance, he lets his hands brush her lower back. Lynn doesn’t notice – at least, not until Johnny points it out.
a/n: kinda hate this one ngl, but it’s whatever :P
Synopsis…! I was feeling writers block all because of this stupid idea being stuck in my mind 😓
She’d 100% listen to Nirvana, The Smiths, Slipknot, Radiohead, Destroy Boys, Cheap Perfume, Alex G, Mommy Long Legs, Bikini Kill, etc.
Would be the type of person to say “name five songs” to anyone wearing a band t-shirt — it pisses dally off to no end
Actually does really well in school, probably has straight A’s and has all her friends in and outside the gang begging at her feet for the Math answers
Also an honors English girl (like me;))
Whenever you search up “grunge bedroom” on Pinterest, her room would be the poster child for those vibes
To build off of that, her style would be a very balanced mix of “modern” grunge (even tho that’s not a thing and style has nothing to do with being grunge smh…) and “real” 90’s grunge
Wears a TON of jewelry — I’m talking rings, bracelets, necklaces, anything she can get her hands on
Coffee addict
Constantly taking Polaroids of her, her friends and the gang (she has a whole album dedicated to Johnny)
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She and Dally cause too much trouble for their own good, the kinda people that draw on desks
On top of that, Dally draws dicks everywhere. Every. Single. Surface.
The gang would very much eat up that “hitting a lick” trend from 2022-2023
Seriously, there’d be stop signs and school bathroom mirrors on their living room walls
Whenever Paul visits the school (since he peaked in high school) Franny and Two-Bit throw shit at him — books, paper balls, water bottles, anything.
Two-Bit and Dally smoke weed together
Franny also has a suspicious love for the ICarly tv show (defo has a gibby tapestry)
She is also openly a VERY big romance movie fan. Flipped, Dinner in America, The Notebook and Juno are her favs
On the other hand, Dally and Darry both secretly love romance movies. One of them will make a subtle reference to one of the movies and they just look at each other with mutual respect for said reference
Franny is obsessed w Garfield, girly has the pants, shirts, mugs, posters, it’s scary. Weirds out Dally a lot, too, but Johnny thinks it’s cute
She and Johnny meet at their local small town drag race track (in this universe, her parents aren’t total assholes n Johnny was taken by CPS so they’ve both got less shitty parents) and hit it off immediately
To build off that, they get together a lot quicker
The gang all go on annual road trips together in Darry’s mom’s old minivan (that poor car has seen some shit)
Franny still makes fun of Steve
a/n: guys I’ve fixed my writers block are you proud of me (I hope)
aka: The aftermath of Lynn gaining custody of Johnny!
Synopsis…! After a hectic trial, Lynn brings Johnny home to their apartment, emotions weighing heavily down on them
The words of the Judge ring throughout her mind like a mantra:
“Ms. Dubois, you have been granted custody of Johnny Cade.”
The drive to their apartment is quiet, silence hanging between them like a treat over a puppy’s head. So many questions and thoughts run through Johnny’s mind, his heart beating wildly in his chest. It isn't until they arrive at the door, their bags in their hands, that it hits him – he’s free.
He’s no longer in the care of his parents, no longer forced to be in the middle of screaming matches, no longer being beaten over trivial mistakes.
Meanwhile, Lynn is sitting in terrified silence. She has zero idea how to take care of someone, even if he’s literally only two years younger than her. What if his teachers think he’s still being neglected? What if the neighbors call the cops, since she’s only eighteen?
Her thoughts run wild, coming up with every possible bad outcome of their current situation – when suddenly, a pair of arms encircle her middle.
Lynn is broken out of her haze and looks down, only to find a trembling Johnny clinging to her side.
“Thank you. For… for saving me.” He mumbles out, burying his face into her shoulder.
For a split second, she just sits there, shocked at his actions. But when his words register and she realizes what he’s saying, she wraps her arms back around him. Gentle hands cradle his head, allowing him to leave further into her body.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again, Johnnycakes. You got that?” She replies, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head.
They spend the next couple moments just standing there, embracing like two siblings reunited after years of being apart – which, in their own way, they are. Once Johnny and Lynn both are ready, they pull back, before heading into the apartment.
It’s a cozy space, with a decent sized kitchen and a living room connected to it, with windows overlooking the Tulsa skyline (which is really just run down houses on one side and fancy mansions on the other). They take their time exploring, taking in the space they can now call their own, before they claim each of their respective rooms.
After that’s out of the way, they get started with making the space their own. Pictures are hung on the walls – which are mainly Lynn’s old paintings and photographs from high school – blankets and pillows placed in the living room, candles set on tables, mugs placed in cabinets.
In Lynn’s room, she hangs up all her Elvis and Frank Sinatra posters, as well as her vinyls. Her record player is set up, as well as her small bookcase, her collection of horror movie VHS tapes, her perfume and makeup organized in her old vanity.
Johnny, on the other hand, doesn't have much. All he does is put up some old superhero posters Dally and Soda gave him and set out his comic books.
It’s quite saddening for Lynn, seeing him have so little. He never got the chance to have a childhood; he was too focused on surviving. He never got to do bakesales, go on field trips, hang out with friends. In short, he had nothing until Ponyboy and Dally came along.
But now, Lynn is determined to ensure he’s treated well, that he’s given all the love that he missed out on while in the custody of his parents.
At the end of the night, they curl up on the couch, watching The Creature From The Black Lagoon, Johnny tucked into her side. She smooths her hand over his hair in a comforting gesture, content with this new life brought upon her. Despite all of the burdens and responsibilities that come with it, she’s content.
a/n: from now on, all my fics will be posted to my main acc, and I’ll link them on t.f.t.o.t. Community since the links never work 💔
˗ˏˋ aka: when Johnny and Francis met! ˎˊ˗
Synopsis…! one night, johnny sneaks around in an attempt to meet his idol, only to make a shocking discovery
Featuring…! @eepy-weepy-silly ‘s oc, Sergei Volkov!
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The breeze is soft and the night cool, as Johnny Cade sneaks quietly into the busy stands of the local drag racing arena. Dallas and Sergei follow behind him closely, glancing around to ensure nobody is following them. Once they’re in, they take their seats in the stands, trying to get the best possible position so they can actually see. Nights like this are important to Johnny, since racing is one of his favorite past times and very rarely does he get this good of seats.
They watch as the cars pull onto the track, lining up side by side, cheers roaring throughout the hundreds of greasers in the bleachers. Johnny’s eyes light up upon seeing his favorite racer — and his idol — stepping out of his car. Frank Turner, an infamous person in the Tulsa racing community. Nobody knows what he looks like nor his identity, only that he’s better than the rest. Cocky, arrogant, smug, all things that you wouldn’t expect Johnny to admire.
And yet, he does; quite significantly, to be totally honest. He watches with a grin on his lips as Frank waves to the crowd, a ski mask covering his whole head aside from a pair of smug eyes and an even more smug grin.
Johnny spends hours watching the cars speeding around the track, the sun falling over the treeline as time passes. As anticipated, Frank wins each one by a long shot. Cheers echo throughout the stadium each time he surpasses another racer, especially from Johnny.
However, halfway through the night, Sergei and Dallas run off, finding themselves bored and unamused, leaving Johnny alone. He doesn't mind, however, being content with watching by himself. That is, until the end of the festivities When everyone is leaving, Johnny finds himself desperately wishing to meet his beloved idol. So, he comes up with the bright idea to sneak down to the dugout. He knows it’ll be easy, considering the lack of security. It’s a local thing organized by greasers, for god’s sake, of course there’s no security…
Which is why Johnny now finds himself pressed against a wall, footsteps silent as the wind as he manages to sneak his way to the dugout where the racers hangout. The first sign that things are amiss is the fact there isn’t loud chatter, just two voices having a private conversation. Where the hell are the others? Shouldn’t all of the racers be hanging around, having fun? Alas, he presses on, determined to at least speak a word to his #1 idol.
The second sign, however, should’ve most definitely turned him away: the door leading to the back is completely ajar. Faint music plays behind it, alongside those two voices he heard earlier.
Now, him not seeing the third sign is purely him being an oblivious idiot: the female voice. Johnny doesn't notice it, not until he's pushing the door open, hoping to come face-to-face with this man he’s completely idolized —
— and is met with the face of a woman.
Before him stands a girl, leaning against the hood of Frank Turner’s car, his iconic ski mask and helmet sat on top of it. Beside her is Buck Merril, a cigarette between his fingers, now wearing an expression full of anger. The girl – who for some reason looks to be his age – has pure, terrified shock on her face. Both she and Buck can’t help but ask themselves, “how the hell did he get back here?!” It doesn't take Johnny long to connect the dots, and when he does, he can't keep himself from blurting out:
“I won't tell anyone! I swear!”
The girl simply stares at him, her expression softening at his promise of secrecy. Buck, however, steps up towards him, his brows furrowed and mouth set in a scowl.
“God fuckin’ damn, Johnny- You keep this shit secret, ya hear me, boy? Nobody can know ‘bout her. Not Dally, not Sergei, not fuckass Pony – no one.” His voice is practically a growl as he says this, his tone dripping in anger and frustration. He’s rightfully angry, this chick gets him a hell of a lotta money and he’s not giving that up just because some stupid kid saw who she really is; a greaser girl trying to make ends meet for her siblings.
“I-I promise I won’t tell anyone! Not a soul will know about this!” Johnny stammers out in reply, trembling hands held up in surrender. He glances between the girl and Buck, eyes full of fear, breaths shaky and labored.
Grumbling angrily under his breath, Buck stomps away, leaving Johnny and this random girl who he’s just discovered has been his idol for the past two years. The two stare at each other, wide eyed and confused, the only sound the chirping of crickets and rustle of the breeze. That is, until the girl breaks the silence.
“You seriously won't tell anyone?” She mutters, her voice carrying a pleading tone. Johnny doesn't realize it, but not only her own life and wellbeing but others’ as well rely on her racing job. If she couldn’t do this, she’d probably end up either dead or in the fucked up foster system.
For several moments, all he does is stare, before shakily nodding to her. He can see the way she relaxes, the way her shoulders go slack and her eyes soften. It suddenly hits him that he’s standing before his idol, she’s a girl, and she's speaking to him. Hell, at this point, it doesn't matter that she’s a chick, she's a hell of a good racer and he wants her autograph.
“Can I get your autograph..?” He suddenly blurts, cheeks flushing as he begins to regret his decision. But even as she’s replying, he feels embarrassed.
“D’you want my autograph or the autograph of the character I’ve created?” She says back, her accent making her smugness all the more prominent. She can’t help smirking at him, the cockiness of Frank Turner clearly the least fake part of his (lack of) existence.
Before Johnny has the chance to mumble out a reply, she’s grabbing a napkin and marker out of her pocket. He watches as she scribbles a couple words down on it, puts the cap back on the marker, shoves it in her pocket, then turns to him. Without another word spoken, she hands the napkin to him, grinning ear to ear.
“Have a good night, Johnny.” She drawls, grinning over her shoulder as she turns to walk off, boots crunching against the gravel road, her silhouette soon disappearing into the night. Johnny watches her go, the shock of it all still coursing through his veins, before looking down and reading what she wrote on the napkin;
“Call for a good time. . . just kidding. . . sort of ;)” Scribbled beside it? Not only a phone number, but the signatures of both Frank Turner and Francis Vendelini.
That night, Johnny calls the number, and when a feminine voice with a jersey accent replies, he feels an unfamiliar flutter in his stomach – and unknowingly establishes one of the most important relationships of his life.
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a/n: reposting this here cuz the link won’t work💔