─ ─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ ─
⭑𓂃˗ˏˋ CARS AND STARS ˎˊ˗𓂃⭑
˗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!
── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ──
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.
── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ──
a/n: reposting this here cuz the link won’t work💔
More Posts from Cozmixxiez and Others
dare I say me… everyday……
me whenever I try searching for fics of a specific character but tumblr shows me shit of other characters 💔🥀
MY MASTERLIST !!
𖦹= oc work ⟡ = fluff ☾ = angst
•───⁺──⋅☾ . ✦ . ☽ ⋅──⁺───•
THE OUTSIDERS:
Darrel Curtis
tbd….
Ponyboy Curtis
tbd….
Dallas Winston
tbd….
Johnny Cade
A Heart Full Of Tears ☾
───── ───── ───── ─────
OC MASTERLIST:
Francis Lorraine Vendelini
oc bio 𖦹
cars and stars 𖦹⟡
the gang’s opinions on francis 𖦹⟡
modern Franny + Gang hcs!𖦹⟡
Lynetta Rose Cade-Dubois
oc bio 𖦹
miracles 𖦹⟡☾
guess 𖦹⟡
───── ───── ───── ─────
a/n: laughs because I feel no desire to write for anyone or anything else…. heh…….😓
thank god I got my cutie patootie 🔥🔥🔥
hii!! Can I request never let me go, by lana del rey? (Apologies cuz this is gonna be a bit long….also pls no Steve😓)
my hair is short, a mix between curly and wavy and dark brown. I have freckles and beauty marks all over, my eyes are green, im defo short and my skin is somewhat tan. My style is a good mix between “modern” grunge and “old/classic” grunge. Think band t-shirts, jeans, converse, silver jewelry, bracelets, those kinda clothes. I’m an introverted extrovert, I’m quiet unless I’m with my friends. I like my alone time but I also adore hanging out with my friends! I like getting into a little trouble (ex, nearly getting kicked out of McDonald’s) but not too much cuz I’m a coward…. I also really love reading and music :))
Anyways I LOVEEE ur writing and I’m so happy for you reaching 100 followers!!
HAHHAHA no steve is toooo real . i think you would b cute with johnny! :3
hey so might’ve just napped for three hours instead of writing or packing for my trip in two days…..!
☆.「 A Heart Full Of Tears 」.☆
“There’s a place where lovers go…
to cry their troubles away.”
Synopsis…! You never thought you’d fall for someone like him. A Greaser. He never thought he’d ever have a chance with you. A Soc. But your two worlds inevitably collide, changing your lives like a star exploding. Until it all goes down in a flaming mess.
a/n…! Apologies for the fact the girl in the mood board at the end isn’t very racially ambiguous… I couldn’t fit enough photos w/o taking up other needed spaces😞
w/c…! 1900+ words
───── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─────
July 14th, 1964.
The sun was high in the sky of Tulsa as you walked around, shoes tapping against the pavement of the sidewalk.
You know you shouldn’t be walking around like this alone, but you’re confident your mother is only exaggerating the things she says about the people on this side of town. How they’re “hoods” and “violent.” Sure, you’ve seen what they’re capable of, but you also know there’s a big difference between those who are greasers by choice and greasers by chance.
Meeting Johnny Cade is what solidifies your opinion.
When you stepped into the local diner – one of your favorite spots – he quickly caught your eye. His shaggy black hair, honey skin, big black eyes. It all made your heart stutter.
But you put on a straight face nonetheless.
You take your seat on a barstool, waving over a waitress so you can order a milkshake.
And all the while, Johnny is looking at you.
Your smile, your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your lips; they’ve all been the center of his mind for a long while.
Dally and Pony’s jokes and words fall upon deaf ears, his body and soul occupied by the Soc girl a couple meters away.
“Ay, Johnnycakes, anyone home?” Dally taps his finger against Johnny’s forehead, immediately pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah, just, uh, spaced out..” He replies, fighting to keep his gaze from the girl he’s been infatuated with for months.
“You sure about that, man? You’ve been awful quiet.” Ponyboy adds.
Johnny can only sigh, his gaze fixed on a girl he’ll never have. You.
When you eventually leave the diner, your mind is still stuck on Johnny – as it always has.
But you’ve hardly taken ten steps before you hear the jingle of the door opening behind you. You turn, only to see a familiar face. Big black eyes. Honey skin. That goddamn scar.
Johnny.
Your eyes lock. His friend shoves him forward, Dallas Winston, you note. Suddenly he’s standing before you in all his glory. His shy, beautiful glory.
“Hey, uhm, I-I was just wonderin’ if you wanted to go see a movie sometime?”
His question catches you off guard. He wants me to see a movie with him? you think to yourself.
For several seconds, you’re stunned into silence and he thinks you’re going to reject him. Call him a filthy hood and spit on his shoes. But your response shocks him even more.
“I’d love to.”
December 1st, 1964.
Nearly five months.
That’s how long you and Johnny have been going steady, and oh, how amazing it’s been.
He showers you with love and compliments 24/7, hands always holding your hips or waist or hand. It surprises you, considering the way he was raised.
And surprisingly, your parents have been accepting of your relationship. He’s allowed to stay over when his parents are fighting and he’s caught in the crossfire, they always make extra food for him at dinner, and your older brother even lent you some old clothes for him.
It’s perfect.
One night, you and Johnny are cuddling in your bed. His arms are wrapped around your body, his hands tracing patterns on your skin as you lay your head on his chest. Never in your life have you felt so loved, so happy. He’s the light of your life. Your everything.
“I love you, Johnny.” You mutter suddenly.
He looks down at you in surprise, and for a moment, you think you’ve ruined it all.
But then his features soften. Those big eyes of his, going from wide-eyed shock to loving gentleness in moments.
“I love you too, baby.” He murmurs in return.
You look up at him, eyes meeting. A small smile graces your lips, one full of the kindness and love he’s grown used to.
You’re his whole world. His sun, his moon, his stars — the air he breathes, the grass he touches.
The two of you lean in, lips locking. It's soft. Sweet. Not like the way you see other greasers kiss their girls. More like he’s savoring you, as if you’ll disappear the moment he pulls back.
But you don’t.
And that’s why he loves you.
When everyone else would have left, you stayed.
April 7th, 1965.
“He did what?!” You yell over the phone, voice breaking at the words Dallas has just confessed to you.
“Yeah, they’ve, uh, ran away... Don’t know what else to tell ya, man. They may not ever come back, to be honest.” Dallas replies.
You can’t believe what you’ve heard. Johnny – your Johnny – killed a Soc? Sweet, soft, kind Johnny? It’s shocking.
Sure, you’ve seen him get into fights, yell and look more like a rabid wolf than a small puppy, but him taking a life?
It makes you sick to your stomach.
Dallas gives you the rest of the details, to steer clear of cops and all that. But the moment he hangs up, you're breaking down.
Tears you’d been holding back for too long stream down your cheeks, loud hiccups and sobs leaving you. Your knees buckle and you land on your floor with a thud.
Your darling, wonderful Johnny may be sent to prison for manslaughter.
The following day, you go visit the Curtis household, a tin of homemade chocolate cupcakes in your hands. It surely won't make up for the disappearance of Pony and Johnny, but it may provide comfort.
You take a deep breath and rap your hand against the door softly.
It’s Darry who opens the door.
He murmurs your name, voice full of disbelief and clear exhaustion.
“What are you doing here?” He adds, motioning for you to enter.
Everyone is there. Dally. Steve. Soda. Two-Bit. All but two familiar faces. It makes your heart break.
“I just… I-I just wanted to stop by. See how y’all are doin’.” You say, ignoring the way your voice cracks with emotion. Your hands tremble as they grasp the tupperware in your hands.
They all know the pain you’re in, feel it themselves, but only to an extent.
Johnny was someone they knew, of course. They loved him like a brother. But they never did – and never will – know him like you do.
Without speaking another word, Darry pulls you into his arms, allowing you the freedom to sob against him.
It hurts, seeing someone so bright lose their spark.
At the end of the day, after spending hours at the Curtis’ place – reminiscing, talking, bonding – you decide to go home. But you’re hardly out of the door when Dallas pulls you aside.
“Hey, uh, by the way, I’m plannin’ on goin’ to see Johnny and Pony later this week.”
“You know where they are?!”
“Yes, doll, I know where they are. But you can’t know.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette, like he’s bored.
“You should write Johnny a letter. I’ll give it over to ‘im and stuff.”
You look up at him, eyes brimming with tears at his statement.
“Of- Of course, yes. I'll bring it over tomorrow.” You say.
With a single nod as a goodbye, you walk over to your car, sliding into the driver’s seat.
That night, you write your letter.
But your words are never read.
April 15th, 1965.
The fire.
The church.
The letter.
Johnny.
Not much aside from those things have been occupying your mind.
A week has passed since they ran away.
A day has passed since the fire.
An hour has passed since you last saw Johnny.
You currently sit on the couch at the Curtis house, biting your nails like crazy. There’s a rumble tonight, against the Socs. Dally told you, Two-Bit and Pony that they’re gonna beat them. For Johnny, he said. It’d only hurt your heart more.
Hours pass. Then the door swings open. You watch as Darry, Two-Bit, Steve and Soda all file into the room, but there’s two people missing.
“Where’s Dallas and Pony?” You ask.
“Not sure. Maybe went to see Johnny.” Two-Bit replies, already grabbing a beer from the fridge.
After about a half hour, the door opens again. Pony’s beaten face appears in the doorway.
“Hey, where ya been?” Darry murmurs. No response.
“Hey, Pony.. whats wrong?”
You stare at the boy, your throat tight with emotion.
The first words out of his mouth leave your already cracking heart in pieces.
“Johnny’s dead. Told him about beatin’ the socs.”
You don't register another word that comes out of his mouth. The whole world goes blank, your entire mind crashing down on you.
“Johnny’s dead.”
June 15th, 1965.
Your soft hands brush over the rough stone you’re sitting on, a small tremble in your touch.
It’s been exactly two months since Johnny died. Since Dally killed himself and your world was flipped upside down.
You’re currently sitting on his gravestone. He’s lucky he even got one, to be honest. The only words carved on the surface are his name and the day he died.
“Johnathan Cade. Died April 15th, 1965.”
The sight leaves you weak.
He was more than just a name. A date that didn't matter to most but meant everything to you. He was a friend. A brother. A son. To some, he was everything. To you he was everything.
In your hand is an envelope. Inside, the letter you wrote but never got to be heard. Countless words, left to be nothing but ink sitting on a page. Not your whole heart and soul.
You carefully open the envelope, taking the piece of parchment out with a delicacy spared for butterfly’s wings.
With a deep breath, you speak.
“To my darling Johnny,
I do hope this letter finds you well. I’m not going to beg for you to return, nor to run away with me to Texas and change our identities. All I ask is for you to listen. To hear my words and never forget them. I love you more than anything, I hope you know that. Life just isn't the same without you around so often. I see you in the dandelions growing between the cracks of concrete. I see you in the cigarettes I pass by in the D.X. I see you when I walk past the lot. The others all miss you greatly. Pony, too. Darry’s been worried sick about him. Won’t eat or sleep, Soda said. Tell Pony he oughta make up with him if he ever comes back. I wish I got to say goodbye. I know there’s a chance I’ll never see you again, never hear you laugh or speak or feel your hand in mine, so I’ll tell you what I never got to. I was hoping to marry you, Johnny Cade. I can’t imagine my life without you. Without your dumb jokes and cheesy pick up lines. It’s just… dull, without you here. I hope that the next time I see you, I’m wrapped in your arms, with a ring on my finger and a venue already in mind. You’re my everything, Johnny. I want you to always remember, that no matter what you’re my favorite. My whole universe.
Sincerely, your darling girl.”
Tears are streaming down your cheeks by the time you’re done.
You wipe away your tears with trembling hands, before reaching into your pocket and pulling out a switch. You kneel down, placing the blade against the surface of his headstone.
By the time you leave, there’s new words on his grave.
“Johnny Cade. Died April 15th, 1965.
Died on Earth, lived in the Stars.”
───── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─────
nvm got an idea based around a fic by @jamesdeanbby (I’ll link it when I post) ‼️
praying this doesn’t turn out almost the exact same and make me wanna kms…!!!
I beg of you guys give me writing ideas I NEED to write something 😭
thank you @marilyn-girly for the tag!! (no I did( just change my user name what are you talking about…)
c - calypso, current joys
o - only you, mac demarco
z - zombie, the cranberries
m - methatonin, destroy boys
i - it’s okay to punch nazis, cheap perfume
x - xanny, billie eilish
x - xerces, deftones
i - i know it’s over, the smiths
e - east coast, alex g
z - zombie girl, adrianne lenker
tags: @eepy-weepy-silly
(I kid you not that is the only person I can tag I have zero moots 🥀💔)
♱ *ೃ.⋆ username tag game!
pick a song starting with each letter of your username ♡
j → jesse's girl by rick springfield. a → army dreamers by kate bush. m → más duele by andrés calamaro. e → elevator man by oingo boingo. s → spanish eyes by elvis presley. d → doll parts by hole. e → everybody loves somebody by dean martin. a → all shook up by elvis presley. n → nope your too late i already died by wifiskeleton. b → boarding school by lana del rey. b → beautiful boy (darling boy) by john lennon. y → yes sir, i can boogie by baccara.
tagging : ( @johnnycadesmuse , @johnnycadesslut , @twobitsblade , @r0seb100d , @kahkie )
-
4rielle liked this · 2 weeks ago -
certified-old-stuff-enjoyer liked this · 2 weeks ago -
greasermoon liked this · 2 weeks ago -
wassupfools77 liked this · 2 weeks ago -
toph-beihong liked this · 3 weeks ago -
connor-murphys-weed-stash liked this · 3 weeks ago -
sublime-freak liked this · 3 weeks ago -
johnnycadesmuse liked this · 3 weeks ago -
cozmixxiez reblogged this · 3 weeks ago
