𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

guys I need an answer 💋🖤

“I can be your little Dairy Queen” ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚

should I add the outsiders to my list? xo💌

ty for tagging! ʚ♡ɞ

🏷️ @spikedhe4rt @dumbbsomeone @maevawrites @screamforme @necrocaustic @urlocalnonbinarybastard @urnothere12

wanted to start a tag game using this website because reciptify is so cute

npt: @thisfeelslike-iykyk @auntiejohn @urmumsfan @daystarpoet @vv4mpteeth @viqwxcs @lcuyscs @loveofcherry @loveeletterlesbian @iluvgogurt445 @eloisesecret @theodditylacey @prettiestgirlinthemorgu3 @goldennhr @junefl0wers @doegirldaydreamer @daystarpoet @xoxochb @catchmeonyourceiling @toooster @shattered-glass-roses @inmyheaddd @tiranniesu + anyone else feel free to joinnn

Outsiders based off book descriptions <3

universe send him my way please

psycho brunette men do it better

literally just a pink icing cupcake in girl form! 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Can you do the greasers dating a Jamaican girl or just a Carribbean girl in general? Separate, obvi 😅

Since it was the 1960s there probably was alot of prejudice which is why I was wondering what it would be like, as a Jamaican myself

❤️

Summary: The Greasers x Jamaican/Carribean!Reader

Warnings: racism, stereotypes, etc.

Author's Note: Generally, I have no clue what living as a Jamaican or Carribbean woman is like and i tried some research but im not very confident in it, so i'm sorry if this is written vaguely...

PONYBOY thinks you're actually stunning, he loves your beautiful hair and glossy skin, and your curves and style. He thinks you're just a genuinely beautiful person, no matter what race. He's not blind to the fact that him dating you would be odd in their society, or that you're tougher than most because of this life you had to endure, but he thinks that you're just perfect for him. He'll always comfort you after a hard day, reminding you that you're so much smarter and more beautiful that people realize.

JOHNNY doesn't try to associate with you at first. He's already outcasted and he sees you as someone that could pull down his reputation, until he starts actually talking to you. He cannot get over your voice, it's smooth like honey and that's what initially attracted him to you. He denied his feelings for so long but eventually realized, that love knows no bounds, and that he'd feel so much better without trying to fit you and himself inside a box. Since then, he's been quite literally the best boyfriend ever. He'll always step in for you, even when he knows he can't really handle it, and he always has a praise for you at the end of the day.

SODAPOP has a specific talent that lets him see how pretty a person is even if their just wearing a school uniform with their hair tied back. He knows how to recognize beautiful features, beauty in the rawest form. You always stuck out to him, and he always stares as you walk by, but makes no move to talk to you until Steve hypes him up. He's awkward and fumbling. He knows interracial couples are shunned and not accepted, so your relationship is a secret that no one knows about except for the gang. He would love to go public with your relationship but he fears that people might start targetting you because of it.

STEVE is quite literally the wokest guy in the gang. He doesn't care about beauty standards, he's never fit them (he thinks) and he's confident in himself so why should anyone care about anyone else? He talks to you nonchalantly a lot, a passing remark about the weather, asking you how your day was. You two are just common accquantainces until he asks you to go to the movies. While sitting next to you, he realizes how tense and nervous you make him. He starts noticing little details about you, your perfume, your hairstyle, your clothing, until he realizes he likes you and asks you out. He's so caring to you, people know not to mess with you, because Steve will rile the whole gang up to come get them because the gang loves you like a sister.

TWO-BIT knows being associated with you could be bad news. He tries to stay out of your way while being respectful, but something about you to him is genuinely so alluring. He cant tell if it's the way you hold yourself, the gentle slope of your shoulders or if its everything wrapped up in a neat little bow, but that's probably the first time he's had a crush in a long while. He tries not to let it be known but you can tell, and you explain that you like him too, but that you know that it would be rough if you two got together. Having conformation that you like him back is the straw that breaks the camels back for him, he's ready to dive head first into this relationship with no protection at all. He's always got your back, especially when it comes to out-insulting people, he's got a tongue sharp enough that it would make a young boy cry and he will use it against someone if they try to diss his girl.

DARRY tries to stay as distanced as he can from you. There's too much trouble for him as a greaser and a technically 'single dad' that he just can't handle anymore stress at the moment, but he's always respectful and never says anything about you. He sees you everywhere though, and you start infecting his mind until he's almost waiting everyday to see you pass by. You two have this weird situationship, where its more the presences of the other than anything. You realize that Darry is probably more hesitant to be in a relationship with you, but that he loves you too. However, patience is key, because he asks you out within the next month. He tells you, once Pony is out of the house and you two can move far away from Tulsa, the relationship can be more public, but for now, only the gang knows.

DALLAS is probably racist. He grew up mean and angry and he'd probably act that way to you. There is no 'fixing him' or 'making him change for you', that's just how he will be. He won't ask you out, but sometimes he'll drop stuff by your door, try and stop by your place for a drink or two. Or just something that makes him look uncaring but still lets him be close to you. He's stuck in this love hate loop with both you and himself, but he tries to push it out of his mind.

'𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬' . . . sodapop curtis

✦ disclaimers/warnings? ~ black!dancer!reader x sodapop, fluff, onshot/drabble?, the use of 'y/n', my only background knowledge on dancing is from dance moms sooo pls give me grace on the inaccuracy.

✦ word count: 1.2k words

𝐩𝐢𝐥é.

arabesque.

pirouette.

you were marking the solo you had been working on for months now in the wings of the stage. the butterflies in your stomach were starting to get worse, the thought of messing up at any point of this dance eating you alive. you had worked too hard to get to this point and make some silly mistakes. it was even harder being a person of color in the dance world—especially as a ballerina. so many people had doubts about you and your talent, but today was the day you'd prove them all wrong. that your skin color didn't make you any less capable, that you could dance just as well—if not better—than your competition. 'maybe if i dance well enough they'll finally see me for who i am and not who they think i am.' you thought to yourself.

as you ran through your dance once again, you could hear a couple of girls whispering in hushed tones about you.

"i can't believe they actually gave her a solo."

"i know, right? last time i saw her on stage, she fell out of her turns in the group dance."

"we don’t have to worry about her. she’s not much of our competition anyway."

god why are people so rude. before you could turn around and stand up for yourself, the announcer was heard over the speakers. "now for our last performance of the night, please welcome y/n, performing 'words through turns'—on stage!"

in that exact moment, it felt like your heart had just stopped. suddenly, your custom felt too tight. your shoes were tied weird. your makeup felt clumped on. but you knew it was now or never—you couldn't let this opportunity slip between your fingers like this.

with a quick shake-out, hoping to get rid of your nerves, you stepped forward and walked onto the stage, settling into your starting position. you quickly scan the crowd, hoping to land on a familiar face. your breath hitched as you locked eyes with a striking pair of blue ones—your blue eyes. sodapop curtis. your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend sitting in the audience, watching you. but he wasn’t alone. seated to his left were steve and two-bit. to his right sat darry, ponyboy, johnny, and—to your surprise—dally. with all the happiness in your heart at seeing them, you take a deep breath and try to regain focus. after a few moments, the music to your piece begins, and you start dancing.

pilé.

arabesque.

pirouette.

each move flows seamlessly together—just like how you had practiced in the wings moments ago. this routine meant everything to you. you had poured so much time and effort into it. and now on stage, you gave it everything you had—your built-up emotions seeping into each movement, making the performance even stronger.

as you moved elegantly across the stage, soda straightened in his seat, his eyes widening. he had seen you dance before—around his house, or when he'd stop by your studio to pick you up, catching glimpses of you finishing a routine. but he had never seen you dance full-out. not like this. he had always thought you were perfect, but on stage? you were more than that. you were like an angel without wings.

while soda continued to watch your every move, a sense of pride swelled in his chest. you had often talked to him about your struggles and shortcomings as a dancer, and while he couldn’t do much to help—other than simply be there for you and listen—he wished he could do more. but in this moment, watching you dance so flawlessly, he felt like everything was okay. seeing you perform so beautifully made him believe that maybe, just maybe, everything might just turn out alright. that you could overcome it all—even though, in reality, it would never be that easy.

with your routine coming to an end, you did one final turn before slowly settling into your ending pose. you were out of breath, your chest rising and falling violently from how much energy you had just poured into the performance. as you take your bow, the audience erupted in cheers and applause. locking eyes with soda once again, you saw him standing up, his eyes lit with pride as he clapped, wiping a mere tear from his cheek. the rest of the gang was cheering as well, with two-bit obnoxiously hooting.

you smile to the audience before walking off stage. joy bubbling inside of you.

rushing back to the dressing room, you grabbed your stuff and quickly changed before coming back out. after slipping on some baggy sweatpants on top of your leotard, you made your way towards the crowd, eager to see soda and the rest of the gang. you had to weave past people, squeezing through the bustling space.

then, finally—you spotted them.

and in their hands, every. single. one of them, had a bouquet of flowers, just for you.

dally held pink tulips. steve had carnations. darry carried lavenders. ponyboy clutched marigolds. johnny offered daisies. two-bit, of course, had lilies.

and last but not least—soda.

holding the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers—white roses.

you were on the verge of happy tears at the sight before you. without an ounce of hesitation, you ran up to soda, dropping your bag in the process, and wrapped your arms around him, giving him the biggest hug. soda was a bit startled, not having noticed your presence before. but once he realized it was you, a big smile spread across his face. he passed the white roses he was holding to darry before hugging you back, lifting you off the ground and spinning both of you around. "you did so good babygirl," he whispered into your ear. "thank you, soda," you murmured into his chest. you were overwhelmed with so many emotions at once, feeling like if you tried to say anymore, you'd burst into tears. soda finally set you down and gently pulled you away from his chest. one hand rested on your forearm while the other came up to cup your face, his thumb grazing your cheek to wipe away a tear that managed to escape. "i'm so proud of you." he murmured, his full attention on you, eyes locked with yours. "the proudest anyone can be. we all are." he motions to the rest of the guys.

"yeah! who knew you could turn like a gazillion times in a row like that?" two-bit exclaimed excitedly. you and the gang burst into laughter at his usual goofiness.

"seriously y/n, you looked amazing out there. i'm glad i was able to come and watch." darry said, patting your back before handing you the flowers in his hands.

one by one, each of the guys handed you the bouquet they had picked out for you. you had never felt so loved by a group of people before then. now, with seven bouquets of flowers in your arms, you clutch them tightly. "i really don't know what to say, guys," you started, "i appreciate every single one of you guys for coming here today to watch me. it honestly means the world. i can't even put into words how happy i feel right now." you beamed.

soda pulled you to his side, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "i love you." he said softly.

"i love you too, soda." you replied with a smile.

all your life, you had never been good with words—let alone speaking about your emotions. dance had always been your escape, your way of expressing yourself.

you showed your words through turns.

✦ maeva's thoughts ~ uhmm this took way too long but I hope y'all enjoyed it!!