A/N: Enjoy! I have two more writing posts to do this week and I’m pretty excited about both of them :) Anyone can always feel free to send in an imagine, preference or headcanon request! I don’t do smut or Character x Character writing for anyone wondering
Word Count: 658
Pairing: Dally Winston x Reader
Since befriending Steve Randle last year, I’ve adored Dally Winston. His blond hair, cold blue eyes and tough personality for some reason drew me in almost immediately. I’ve been warned about him, but I just can’t help that I’m into him. Just being around him makes me blush and freeze up.
Today is no exception. We’re all at the Curtis house and I’m reading while the boys throw around a football. It’s not that I can’t play or that I don’t like it, but when I play at the same time as Dally, I tend to make a fool out of myself. So, I sit and watch the boys run around with their shirts hanging out of their jeans pockets. It’s killing me to watch Dallas; for someone who smokes and drinks almost religiously, he’s in good shape. I wonder for a moment if he works out when he’s in jail.
“Y/N! Doll? Pass us back the ball?” I blink and snap out of my thoughts the moment I realize that Dally is saying my name.
“What?” My cheeks flush and I curse myself silently for not paying attention.
“You were staring. Are you okay?”
Steve takes a moment to stop flexing for a girl who was passing by to holler, “She was checking you out!”
“I’m fine,” I answer Dal, shooting a nasty glare in Steve’s direction.
Dally smirks a little and sits down beside me. “Is Stevie-Boy right?”
“Well… I mean…” In an attempt to find the right ting to say, the word “yes” somehow makes its way out of my stupid mouth.
“You’re into me, huh?”
I swear to God, I’ve never wanted to crawl into a hole so badly. “Just because I looked doesn’t mean I’m into ya.” I’m desperately trying to explain myself and that stupid blonde’s smirk just keeps growing.
“You’re blushing an awful lot, doll.”
I could slap him. Or kiss him. Or both. “I hate you,” I sigh.
“Nah. I think you want me, or at least like me.”
“Give me one good reason that would make you think that. Me blushing doesn’t count.”
Dally licks his lips, which are chapped from sun exposure, and scoots closer to me. “Your pupils are dilated even though we’re in the sun, and I think that’s a sign of attraction.” He grabs my wrist and finds my pulse quickly. “Quick heart rate and I know you said not to mention it, you’re blushing. Also, your excuses are really dumb. I know girls, doll. Pretty well.”
Pulling my wrist away from his warm hand, I sigh. “Fine, okay. I like you.”
“Why do you sound so upset about liking me?”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I squint at him. He has to know.
“Please, enlighten me.”
“You’re the worst person for me to like! You don’t like me back, and even if you did, you’d only want me for one night.” Looking down at the concrete sidewalk, I grow more and more frustrated with myself for even looking his way.
“Y/N, what makes you think I don’t like ya?”
“I don’t know. I’m just not like the girls you usually go out with.”
“That ain’t a bad thing. I mean, I’m not really itchin’ to date another Sylvia, and let’s face it, she’s the only kinda girl I’ve ever really dated. Maybe I want something new.” Sighing, he puts his hand on my knee. “How about you give me a chance. I’ll take ya out to a movie or somethin’.”
I nod and lift my eyes to meet his. “I’d like that.”
“I hope it goes well.” Dally smiles a small, but real, smile. “I’d like for you to be my girl.”
headcannon: when dallas first met johnny, johnny had mumbled his name really quietly. so, instead of hearing “johnny cade” dallas heard “johnny cake”. so, he started calling johnny that, it stuck, and soon the rest of the gang would call johnny that too.
Word Count: 358 A/N: This was supposed to be like an except about Curly from Pony’s journal, but it’s more like me talking about Curly. It’s really short, but it’s cute.
Feel free to send requests, though I mostly do Shepard related stuff.
Curly wasn’t just your average greaser. In fact, he was hardly a greaser. He was more of a hood or a gangster, something like that. Not greaser. It was guys like him that tarnished the view society had on us greasers. But you can’t blame Curly for his behavior, and not just because he’ll knock your teeth in if you do. You can’t blame him for the way he acts because it’s his brother Tim’s fault.
“Suddenly it wasn’t only a personal thing to me […] And it was too late to tell them that there was still good in it, and they wouldn’t believe you if you did. It was too much of a problem to be just a personal thing.”
-I shouldn't have gotten you in this mess, Ponyboy. You're only thirteen-
-CORRECTION, I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD AND A MONTH.
Right... That's what I meant-
YOU BEST BELIEVE IT. FOURTEEN, THAT'S RIGHT. F-O-U-R-T-E-E-N. JULY 22, 1951. LAST TIME I CHECKED, THAT WAS FOURTEEN YEARS AND A MONTH AGO. I'M ALMOST ON THE BRINK OF MANHOOD, JOHNNY. IT'S SO CLOSE, I COULD ALMOST TASTE IT.