#johnnycade
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johnny cade is still alive he’s literally right next to me right now
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do u think u could do something where johnny and the reader aren't officially dating or anything but she keeps stealing and wearing his clothes, and the gang starts teasing them for it, which eventually leads to him actually asking her out? i'm sorry if this is too much or anything but thank you so much!!
ahhh this is so cute! idk how i missed this one. my apologies for taking so long writing it out. it came out waaay longer than i anticipated, but i hope you enjoy what i came up with. (': <33 - mae
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Title: The Shirt Thief
Pairing: Johnny Cade x reader
Summary: A cold night with Johnny Cade in the vacant lot brings you an unusual sense of warmth in the form of his denim jacket. What starts off with said jacket, causes you to end up with multiple articles of Johnny's clothes. It all seems harmless until the gang starts digging their noses into Johnny's business. Are you guys friends or are you more than that?
Word Count: 9,472
Disclaimer: THIS IS EDITED! I fixed the spelling mistakes and some of the grammatical errors. I also added a few new things to it, mainly in dialogue. I hope you like it though! :)
Warnings: Mentions of abuse in Johnny's home (with his parents), animals hunting and fighting, Soc's bullying the reader - vice versa, almost attempted assault, the gang coming to the rescue, rough housing with the gang (banter mainly) and a whole lot of sass! Johnny is somewhat ooc here because he's more talkative and sassy, but it's just how the piece came along! Let me know if I forgot anything else.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
The story of our pesky shirt thief begins in the vacant lot under the sparkling night sky. This night was a relatively clear one in the cusp of autumn’s frost. The full moon was ample, a stunning silver glow that hypnotically danced, shrouded slightly from the wispy clouds sent onward by the chilly fall wind. Amber, golden and burnt brick red crumpled leaves tumbled noisily across the sandy dirt in a mini whirlwind. A toasty fire was being nurtured timidly upon the outskirts of this deserted place, courtesy of Johnny Cade. Underneath the jagged canopy of an almost bare tree, losing its wrinkled leaves, our greasy raven haired boy’s fingers quivered around the spindly stick in his hand. Gave an experimental poke to the half snapped branch swarmed by the smouldering, orange flames. He did not shiver from the cold, but from rampant nerves that pertained to someone he was particularly fond of being there beside him. That person being you.
In a gloomy haze, stretched over sixteen years, the dependent vacant lot with all of its decaying junk left to rot had become his home away from home. It was somewhere he could come to in order to escape the harshness he had just down the street, riddled with its cluttered and intense violence. The one he had with his parents – if he could ever really call them that – had never been consumed with even an inkling of love or nurturing. It practically rotted away from the inside out with its creaky floorboards, dust riddled insides and the damp lining the walls like a thick winter scarf. A location where he was destined to be neglected in, for the only attention he obtained was to be hollered at by his mother when she was hacked off at whatever or whoever it was that particular time: Whereas his father brandished anything he could in hand to pelt him with. The thought made Johnny shudder, a sick nauseous feeling welling up inside of him. Slimy and cold.
However, not all was lost. There had been some silver linings in teaching him things such as love, loyalty and camaraderie: His gang of reliable buddies that would stretch to the ends of the Earth for him were the culprits. Although they had nothing too, they gave him everything he’d been missing. Well, almost everything. They were the sole reason he had not run away about a million times by now. They grounded him, created a net of safety and support that he never would have experienced otherwise if he had not been born in this very downtrodden neighbourhood. Yet they could not save him from everything – a harsh reality he came face to face with daily. Nothing and no one could ever replace the lacking love of his parents.
Nevertheless, the youthful greaser that looked as if he were a puppy that had been kicked one too many times had grown used to bumming around most nights on the busted leather car seat left to waste away in the lot. A frequent bed he now sat upon to gaze up at the glittering stars in the midnight haze of the dark sky. He pondered to himself, watching it while his most favourite person in the world sat off to his right. The silence between you both wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just off experiencing your own inner worlds whilst you enjoyed the other’s presence. Johnny wasn’t much of a talker as is. You understood the chips he had on the table and didn’t mind in the slightest, but you had your ways of getting him talking.
Despite the fact that he had a warmer and much more benevolent destination to crash at nightly: The Curtis House. He felt an immense pang of guilt and shame engulf him entirely at the thought of taking up that space. This house did not consume the same dreamy and abundant riches that one would desire at the core. Instead those fantasies were only destined for reality on the Wicked West Side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. “The home to the rich and greedy,” as Sodapop loved to put it.
Although the Curtis House lacked in material volume, it oozed a charm in its bare necessities and rundown appearance, with its peeling papered walls and well played piano that needed a miracle of tuning. What it lacked when it came to standardised beauty was made up for by its glowing warmth of love, companionship and acceptance of all the inhabitants that nestled under its rickety roof. It was a safe haven for anyone needing a place to lay low to avoid getting into trouble that could be avoided; a.k.a trouble with the law. Dallas and Steve were also regular inhabitants of the well loved couch perched up against the wall by the front door of the home: A product of powerful tempers that needed quenching. They found solace on that old, brown cushiony hunk of junk just as Johnny did when the nights grew too cold or unbearable on his lonesome.
Johnny stared up at Orion's Belt wondrously, remembering the time he'd heard Ponyboy rattle on about how he'd woken up to find the notorious Tim Shepard occupying his couch, reading the morning paper.
'Now, what in the hell was someone like Tim Shepard doin' on the Curtis’ couch?' Johnny thought silently.
Never had he bagged the likes of the eldest Shepard to reach out for a lifeline like that. It was almost unheard of, unfathomable. Tim was a handsome young man with a gnarly looking scar running from his temple to his chin. He was hard, cold and twisted. Jail, booze and all the criminal endeavours he had under his belt were like a morbid toolkit of how to be the best hoodlum out there. He looked about as capable of accepting charity as a lost soul in Hell. Then Johnny supposed that he never really knew him like Dally did. Johnny's silent disposition made it challenging for him to get close to anyone outside of his gang of buddies. Sometimes he preferred it this way, but usually he loathed it. Loneliness was easy in warping the soul of a good man.
From what Dally had told him of Tim Shepard, it'd be an immense knock to his swelling pride to reach out for help and have everyone aware of it. Inflated prides and fragile egos didn't do wonders for people with big mouths. Hence why Johnny kept his damn trap shut about it after Pony had told him.
'Man, he's gotta be pullin' my leg or somethin'.' He said internally before shaking his head.
Expelling a breath, Johnny settled back into the leather seat as comfortably as possible. He swore he'd get a bad back after opting to take the lumpy side of the car bench with the springs gnawing their way through. It had been the gentlemanly thing to do after all. He was a good guy with a good heart.
Warmth pervaded nicely from the reasonably sized fire he'd established in front of you both, but the chilly wind licked at any bare bits of skin daring to peer through tiny cracks in clothes. He hardly shivered outside of a nervous twitch. Perhaps that was only due to the fact he'd grown accustomed to the elements no matter the weather – unlike yourself.
Instead his charcoal eyes were doe-like, shakily flickering to his right where you sat. Only then in this moment did he fully come to the present moment, understanding the cold bit at your nose, ears and fingers in a way that looked cute. Yet despite your shivering that you so desperately attempted to hide, you sat there in all of your beautiful glory with only a few inches of space between you both. A comfortability you bathed in that seemed so raw, as if you were merely sitting on your living room couch with both of your knees and feet tucked under you and just off to the side. Peace prevailed from the tender smile gracing your features. A subconscious practice, you definitely seemed to be lost in your own thoughts. Johnny stared at you, and wondered what kind of movie was flashing behind those pretty eyes to have the sun dawn across your face like that. To him, all he could see was the vacant lot – a desolate place where only hoodlums would hang in droves, drawn in by its trashy grounds.
"You starin' cuz I got somethin' on my mug or it's just that ugly?" You grinned like a chessy cat, turning to look him directly in the eye. Thinking that being a wise cracker was funny.
Damn you and your perceptiveness.
Instantaneously Johnny ripped his gaze from yours, stiff as a plank. Embarrassment dashed across every cell in his body and left his lungs flat of oxygen. Man, if he thought his usual heartbeat was fast, what was happening inside of his chest right then must have been the speed of goddamn light!
All he could do was stammer out, "U-u-uh n-n-neither!" The poor guy sounded like Porky The Pig.
Your eyelids fluttered in astonishment at the stuttering mess of a young man he was. So jumpy. A mouse scuttling around on sharp eggshells. Part of you would've felt proud of your handiwork if it had been anyone else, but it was Johnny, your best friend. "Awe shucks, Johnny-cake," you offered him sheepishly, "I didn't tell you to stop. I was just messin' with ya. Gotta keep you on your toes somehow."
Messing with him? That was evident. He wasn't cross with you for pulling on his leg, just bothered by himself for getting caught out in the act. "S'okay, I g-get it." He shrugged, trying to play it cool whilst he stared into the portal to the Underworld.
"Penny for your thoughts?" You tried again, bumping him softly with your shoulder.
"Nothin' much," He lied smoothly, picking at the hole in his tennis shoe.
"You sure you ain't developin' the cure for cancer or somethin'? You're pretty smart." You inquired with a cheeky beam.
"Shoot! Do I look like I know what two plus two equals?" Johnny was getting a little bit sassy.
"Okay okay, I get it. I'll back off." You chortled.
'Yeah, thank goodness for that…' Johnny thought to himself. Suddenly he was uneasy with the idea of you ever discovering his little moments of staring at you because he loved the way you looked in candid moments like this one just passed. How did one go about saying these kinds of things? Johnny didn't know a lick. He was a dejected lost cause in the romance department. An awkward bump on a log. Felt he looked cruddy right about now too so he scratched the back of his head fervently for a second. No one really gave him a second glance. He was invisible and too quiet to be noticed.
Yet he failed to realise that you noticed him.
His forlorn expression had been obscured by his shaggy bangs that hung on his forehead. In fact, they no longer existed. You watched him struggle with something akin to wrestling a twenty foot gator inside of that skull of his. It made you feel funny on the inside, as if you were to blame. Diligently Johnny picked up the jagged stick he'd used to poke the flames with earlier. Started drawing in the dusty cold dirt at his feet. Back and forth, left and right, then round and round. A tedious therapeutic cycle.
'Yup, he's off to the moon again.' You thought. 'I'll give him a sec to recoup. I think I made him short circuit a little too hard.'
Just then the bleakness of the night pressed its breathy lips against you. You shivered in response, huddling unconsciously to Johnny for his radiator heat. Part of him was shaking too. The flames jolted haphazardly. A violent twirl of dead leaves kicked up into the air before the wind relented altogether and they fluttered into the fire that engulfed them. It was a beautiful sight indeed, albeit destructive. The elements typically were unforgiving. That was the cycle of life. Mother Nature worked in wondrous ways that went beyond the mere perception of the human mind. Ever evolving and always there. It had put a smile on your face, and Johnny looked at you once more.
"Now, you wanna give me a penny for your thoughts?" He asked.
You slowly turned to look at him, your smile unwavering, "And cash in my trade secrets when you won't give me yours? That don't tally up to me."
Johnny shrugged, trying to hide a ghost of a smile on his features, "You just caught me off guard that's all…"
"Oooooh so I got the element of surprise on my side?" You wiggled your eyebrows. "Who knew I was mighty smooth!"
Johnny rolled his charcoal eyes, shook his head with a laugh, "Don't get too big headed now," he warned.
"Why, cuz I'll float away?"
"Naw," Johnny shook his head, "You sound like Two-bit."
Your countenance fell from grace then; all of the humour drained completely, replaced with a sulk. "Now you just went and ruined it."
Johnny laughed heartily, "I dunno why you got it against him, yn. It was only fifth grade-,"
"Don't remind me of fifth grade! He put gum in my hair and you saw it." You warned with a finger pointed at him. “I looked like a coconut headed bum for two years, Johnny Cade! Two years I ain’t ever gonna get back.”
"Alright, alright! Don't shoot." He mumbled with a half smirk on his face.
"And don't laugh either. Who's side are you on anyway?" You mumbled with your arms folded over your chest.
Johnny met his match in attempting to swallow the laughter down, "Who knew you were this much of a sore loser," with a shake of his head.
"Sore loser my ass…" You retorted, looking off to the side like a petulant child.
All Johnny could do was laugh.
The sourness of your mood forced you to realise the lateness of the night. The cold showed its first signs of frost that danced mistily away from the firelight. You quivered fully this time, rubbing your nimble hands up and down your arms. "Are you cold?" Johnny finally had the courage to ask.
"Uh-huh! But I'll be okay."
"You know you don't have to tough it out for me, right?" Johnny said sincerely. "You shoulda brought a coat. It's November not August."
"I forgot, mom." You mumbled wryly.
"Man, don't call me that. It sounds strange." He pulled a face as he spoke.
"And why not?" You demanded.
"Cuz you sound like T-," He began, but you cut him off.
"Don't even think about saying that name!"
Despite himself, Johnny was laughing something awful. A grin spread across his face akin to a mixture of pride and victory. He'd bested you in the end and even you knew it. "You asshole-," You muttered, but it all bled through into your own sense of laughter that mingled with his.
Then it seemed to die down, a comfortable glow encasing you both. In the midst of it you hardly realised Johnny shimmying beside you – too caught up in the afterglow. But then an uncanny warmth of freshly worn denim was draped over your shoulders. Ghosts of fingertips touched the nape of your neck as it was laid there. Your head turned to find Johnny retracting his hands shyly and passing it off without a word. The gesture touched you, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
"Why?" Your better judgement couldn't stop the question from flying out of your mouth.
Johnny squirmed uncomfortably under your focused stare, "I dunno…" he shrugged. "You were cold and didn't have a jacket. It was the right thing to do I guess."
The right thing to do. It made you beam beautifully then. Johnny Cade was always doing the right thing. Well, maybe not all the time when he was with his buddies, but usually he did. A good guy with a good heart that made yours flutter at the touch. The act of giving you his most prized possession really touched you in ways that made your eyes begin to water. You needed a second to blink them back. Hoping he hadn't noticed. Luckily he hadn't.
You thanked him in the only way you knew how to, by leaning your head on his shoulder. He stiffened to the touch, unfamiliar with it. Johnny wasn't much of a hugger, so physical contact was reserved for special moments. He allowed it this time and you felt his body shake, unsure with what to do with himself. Your fingers wrapped around his bicep, a reassuring squeeze so light it helped him realise you weren't going to hurt him. You never could. He was too special, too gentle, but wild in his own way when he let himself out freely. Yet the person he was now, the boy that gave you his jacket and talked with you the most; that was your Johnny Cade.
"Thank you, Johnny-cake." You whispered into the air, gently holding his hand and squeezing softly. It was sweaty.
"D-don't mention it." He swallowed, giving you an experimental squeeze back. "It's just my jacket, softie."
"Who you callin' softie?" You look up at him with a cocked eyebrow.
"You."
Silence befell you, and it was laced in a tranquil dose. Hushed whispers reverberated off of the caverns in your hearts, growing more prominent. All the giggles filled with the springy frolicking of baby lambs. Clumsy and endearing. Johnny lit a fire in you unmatched and vice versa. Young love that was mutual, but unknown to the other. You stayed with him for quite some time, until he walked you home. You'd sent him off with a wave after him shyly telling you to keep it. Made him promise not to sleep out in the cold, and Johnny kept his word. Slunk all the way to the Curtis House three hours before sunup to fortunately find it free. Rest was his, all with a smile screwed on tightly to his features.
Many more instances of thievery occurred with your pesky little fingers and the growing feelings that possessed you like a restless spirit. Time spent with Johnny became your drug of choice, and you could not get enough of him. No funny business was happening, it was just your personalities melding well together. You brought out a sassy part to him, and surprisingly he could keep up with you. Each meeting was set in colder conditions than the last. Forcing Johnny to bring in what little reinforcements he had. You either seemed to forget a jacket or your layers weren't nearly enough. His jacket was a chameleon's skin, bouncing from his shoulders to yours. His shirts were a comforting reminder of him when he wasn't around – shields against the bleakness of winter. His grey sweatshirt was your favourite. Everything began to accumulate.
One day you were both coming from the tracks in the Shepard outfit where a little creek was running through another vacant lot by an old abandoned factory. The water was still frozen and the trees were barren. All sorts of junk stuck to the frosty ground. It was kind of niche-like, a quiet place that seemed abandoned when the sun shone its rays upon Tulsa. It had been an accidental find during a summer day the year before. A superb place to explore when things were warmer and less soggy. Though it was apparent that neither of you had the courage to explore the dangerous insides of the abandoned warehouse in its entirety. Anyone could be lurking there, boobietrapped the innards to protect their stashed hoards. So the pair of you stuck to the outskirts towards the vacant lot beside it.
There you both were, sat upon a crumpled wall, admiring a winter's afternoon like a pair of Humpty Dumpty’s. The sun was bright in the sky, threatening to melt the world entirely. The first inklings of spring graced reality. The robins were chirping, hopping around in search of food nearby. Adorable feathered critters, so fluffy. They reminded Johnny of Christmas as one turned its neck beside him, curiously looking up into his black eyes. Both were inquisitive of the other.
"He looks like you-," your half whisper broke out into the air too loudly. The disturbance made the robin jolt and fly off.
Johnny sighed, "Man, he got so close this time. You just had to go and ruin it didn't you?"
"I'm sorry. Was there a spiritual connection happening? How rude of me!" You gasped with a hand over your heart.
He shook his head, grinning because he wasn't angry about it at all. "He was a cute little guy though…"
"Hence why I said he looked like you." You clarified.
Johnny exploded with a blush, shaking his head again, "You must've hit your head when you fell on the ice earlier."
"My head is not any worse off than it was before, thank you very much!" You defended yourself.
"You know, the first sign of someone tellin’ porkies is denial, right?"
"I am not tellin’ porkies!"
"Are too-," Johnny countered, nudging you with his elbow.
"Am not!"
Falling back into that effortless banter made you both grin like chessy cats. It was silly, but very much needed. You knew Johnny got extra embarrassed whenever you'd start complimenting him, especially in the looks department. You didn't say these things just to throw him off, but because you truly meant them. Johnny was cute. One of the cutest guys you'd seen in a longtime. Maybe he wasn't moviestar handsome like Sodapop, but girls were missing out when they overlooked him. He had his own things to bring to the table; loyalty, kindness, abiding the law… Just to name a few. You suddenly shook these thoughts out of your head, deciding if you went too deeply down this path that it was best not to be done in Johnny’s presence. Lest you were to blabber about it like you'd done to your other friends who'd told you to ask him out already. They just didn't understand how delicate the matter was really. Johnny wouldn't say yes anyway.
"Hey look! Those cats are back," Johnny quietly hissed by your side, pulling you out of your daze.
You followed his line of sight and sure enough the two male felines were there. Lithe in nature and mean looking. A skinny orange tabby trotted forward, a snaggle tooth protruding from his mouth. By his side was his black Bombay counterpart, scraggy bodied with dirty fur and a distinct chip taken from his ear. They were silent, far from their former glory days when they knew what a good home was. The Bombay was a little bigger than his cheddar companion, and it was easily understood by any human looking in that a pact had been formed between them through a necessity to survive. The pair of you had spied them before, a distrusting set that initially hissed and growled. They were all claws and teeth so you kept your distance to avoid any surprise visits to the clinic. However now they seemed to tolerate your presence, acting as if the silence you exuded exempted your existence. Johnny and you admired them, goofy grins on your faces, because the cats were ready to commit their timely crime of hunting for some grub of the day. You knew who they reminded you of.
"Well if that ain't Dally and Tim," You consciously made the effort to whisper.
Johnny nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I can see it."
"Which one's which?" You asked, genuinely curious about Johnny's take.
He was reluctant to take his eyes off the cats, watching them begin prowling forth towards an unsuspecting robin. "Huh?" he hummed, finally looking at you just as you leaned your head on his shoulder.
"Which cat is Dally and which one is Tim? You know 'em better than I do." You pressed softly.
"Oh, that's easy, Dally's the ginger tabby and Tim's the Bombay." He offered with a nod of his head in the felines direction.
"What why?" You demanded it up at him.
“Well if we’re goin’ off their looks for a start, Tim looks like the Bombay cat. Guy is a real alley cat – got a lot of street smarts and carries himself well. Besides, he's tougher than a bag of nails.” Johnny did have a point – Tim looked just like that black cat with his curly jet hair.
Speaking of the black cat, it had entered a state of hunting, kneeling down with coiled taught muscles – just ready to pounce on that unsuspecting robin below, pecking at the seeds you and Johnny had left behind earlier. You hoped it wouldn’t be eaten, couldn’t stomach to see something so savage. However, you supposed that was only the way the circle of life worked.
“The orange tabby’s Dally cuz of that cool look in his eyes. The way he carries himself so freely. Out of the two, the tabby’s the one that’s in charge somehow. He writes the rules that the other cat’s always tryna best.” Johnny offered with a brief shrug before continuing, “Not that the black cat is following any rules. Both have minds of their own.”
Boy, you could really hear the way he admired Dallas Winston from the way he spoke about the orange tabby. It was wholesome. Dally was Johnny’s hero — the kid practically worshipped the ground the guy walked on. You didn’t see why. To you, Dallas Winston was a rotten hoodlum with a track record of breaking the law in every way, shape and form that he could. He frightened you like The Boogeyman had when you were nine. Where you both engaged with each other somewhat cordially, you preferred to keep your distance. You supposed that you had no room to judge after all. There was a deep friendship that had developed between him and Johnny; you’d seen it in Dally’s cold hard eyes… affection. It made you grin then, wondering if Johnny thought strangely of your heroes too.
“And both of them are jackasses.” You countered, bumping his shoulder mischievously.
Johnny laughed a little, looking at you for a few short moments. “Yeah alright, I’ll give you that.”
You liked the way he’d described the two though. It was a statement that fit the pair of hoodlums in a peapod together. Yet the orange tabby did appear to be the leader as it licked its wonky chops delectably. Inched closer by the second, a silent assassin to carry out its hunter gatherer lifestyle. It was intelligent, mimicking the movement of the robin that had caught onto it. It lured the bird on a swift and winding course, swiping for it good and hard but missed. Never mind. The robin fluttered up and into the line of sight of the black cat, a moment of fear in its beady eyes. Yet just as the night-like feline swept its razors at it, the robin burst into the air and flew off in the opposite direction. It had missed its meal by a feathers length. Every other robin in the vicinity flew off instantly, leaving the two cats dumbfounded.
In frustration, the orange tabby yowled and darted forth. Its clawed paw zipped out and popped the mouth of the black cat. The black cat hissed, stunned for a mere second before it lunged for the only comrade it had in this god forsaken world. The two tumbled together in an infuriated Halloween special of blurred fur. A gasp floated from your mouth as they rolled back and forth. A genuine cat fight unheard of. They sounded like two ghouls trying to out spook the other – alien and loud.
Johnny couldn’t help but laugh out of nervousness. He wasn’t trying to be cruel whatsoever. Didn’t like to see animals fighting and hurting each other, but it humoured some sick part of him. “Just like Dally and Tim, huh? Buddies one minute then at each other’s throats the next.”
“Amen to that.” You found the humour of the situation, only because it was too similar to the real life hoodlums you both knew.
You’d seen your fair share of those guys beefing it out in the past together in The Dingo parking lot, let alone practically in your own backyard. They were a strange duo – too competitive and cut from the same cloth. They’d never find another person just like them, that was for sure.
Just then an icy gust came throttling through the area, reminding you both that it was still winter. A tremor ran through the pair of you, and you huddled together for warmth. By now the cats had slumped off to their own corners of the lot, hissing and growling as they went. Sore egos and bodies made them sulk and mewl in the shade whilst they licked their wounds.
“Dammit-,” your teeth chattered, moving closer to Johnny. “March my ass…”
Johnny breathed a laugh, shaking his head. He scanned your features humorously, those bushy brows hidden by a thick blanket of his black greasy bangs that flopped onto his forehead.
“What?” You mumbled, your fingertips unconsciously reached for him in the space between you both. Johnny didn’t notice.
He stared at you for a good three seconds before opening his mouth to speak, “How can you be cold with all those layers you got on?”
“Well I mean it’s obvious, it’s winter.”
“Uh-huh-,” Johnny sassed, smirking slightly, “As if you ain’t wearin’ my shirt, my sweater and my jeans jacket too. Got the whole department store on your back.”
Abashment took hold of you as your gaze dropped down to inspect yourself. There was Johnny’s jacket on you, and underneath his tattered grey sweater, that black t-shirt poking up above the collar. And Johnny? He was adorned in a wrinkled white shirt with a blue and creamy egg yellow flannel over the top you guessed was one of the gang’s. Worn over that was Dally’s brown leather jacket with the cosy sheepskin lining. You pouted with a bruised ego, looking off to the side, “It’s not like you’re naked or nothin’…” you murmured petulantly.
Johnny chuckled breathily, your joined hands jostling as he tugged on it without any semblance of awareness, as if to gain your attention. “Not yet, but I’m gonna be! Man, do you know what I had to say to get this jacket from Dally?” He was teasing you.
“Mmmppppffff…” you grunted, crossing your legs on that wall.
“The guys are askin’ questions and I dunno what to tell ‘em any more!” His voice broke a bit before he continued, “Two thinks I’m preparin' to run down the centre of town butt naked!”
That made you burst out into fits of giggles. The thought was so unorthodox it was hilarious. “You’re tellin’ him that’s the truth right? God, could you imagine? I can see the news articles now: Johnny Cade, Teenage Delinquent Gone Buck Wild!” You beamed, throwing your free hand out to elaborate some unseen picture.
Johnny shook his head again, laughing with you, “Man, you’re just as bad as Soda!”
“I’m twice as good looking too!” You offered with all the cheekiness you could muster.
All he could offer was an entertained roll of his eyes. Your shoulders bumped together, old comrades turned into something more. His soft gaze fell onto your interwoven fingers, and his heart fluttered like dove wings. A widened gaze, then that notorious blush exploded under that tanned flesh. His mind was incapable of functioning. It was wholesome, but you read everything wrong. Made a move to release his hand and he stopped you.
"Don't." It was the strongest word you'd heard from him as he held your hand tighter than he ever had before. Not enough to hurt you, but to let you know it was real too.
"Y-you sure?" It was your turn to stutter.
The look he shared with you may have been wavering to some degree, but there was certainty in those eyes. His mouth opened to speak, "Yeah, I don't mind one bit."
I don't mind one bit. It ran round and round in your head. A starstruck expression invaded your beautiful countenance. The reassurance was a bonus that made your belly fill with a plethora of butterflies. Cloud nine had nothing on this moment.
Johnny explored the expressions flitting across your face with a newfound sense of wonder. That pleasant delight racing through you was infectious as you stared off into the junk riddled vacant lot, your mind preoccupied with his hand in yours. The sun dawned across your features once again, like that autumn night you'd spent with him in your neighbourhood's vacant lot. The understanding that he was the source of that made his belly squirm, a giddiness overcoming him. He could no longer deny the fondness he had for you so blatantly.
With him leaning a little closer to you, he whispered, "How about you give me at least some of my stuff back?"
"Mmmmm maybe,"
"yn-," there was an uncommon sense of sternness in his voice.
"But-," You tried objecting.
"No buts-," he rushed out with a shake of his head, "At least give me one! I've been wearing this shirt for three days now!" He was hilariously incredulous.
"Is that why you stink?" You taunted him.
"Not funny-," He made his best attempt to be cross with you.
"Okay, okay! I'll give them back." You said begrudgingly.
"You better bring the cavalry with how much you have stolen from me, you little shirt thief."
"In my defence, you did give them to me… But I'll have them for you next time I see you, scouts honour!" You spoke sincerely with your free hand held dramatically over your heart.
"Uh-huh, that's what you said last time and I still didn't get 'em back." He bantered.
"Well, that wasn't a real scout's honour." You admitted with a diffident rub to the back of your head.
"yn-," he shook his head.
"Hey! I'm serious this time."
"Good…" He trailed off, his other hand beginning to play with the rings banded around your fingers absentmindedly.
Blissfulness carried upon the wind, a promise of returning what wasn't yours already settled. Golden light broke through the clouds, catching Johnny in the face directly, which made him grimace evidently. You grew lost in his handsome physique, feeling the pad of his thumb drag up and down the back of your hand. The sensation was special, because Johnny had warmed up to you so much.
It was a lively Saturday night, and with the determined honour of a scout member, you showed up like clockwork with a bag filled with Johnny's things. It was just as the crowds at The Nightly Double encroached upon the Tulsa streets in boisterous droves. Everyone was high on the giddy delight of the movie they had just watched – the late night viewing of two specials before the drive-in closed its doors for the night. Previous arrangements with another friend had you missing out on the fun, but here you were wearing your very own leather jacket with Johnny's denim one bunched up nervously in the palms of your hands. Speaking of Johnny, he had tagged along with the gang – minus Darry, because movies seemed to bore the older man to death.
A pair of scrawny looking Socy guys stalked out of the front doors, acting like big shots, cutting in front of a dark green Corvair on its way out and into the oncoming traffic. The driver of the same social class hung out of the driver's window whilst his girl attempted to pull him back in.
"Hey watch it, wise guys! If you're lookin' to get your asses run over, then be my guests and step back in my line of sight!" He snarled aggressively before his girlfriend won the battle and pulled him back inside to tell him to "knock it off".
A line began to form behind them as the couple argued incessantly, presumably over the guy's foul temper. Car horns honked on the spring breeze, forcing the guy to nervously step on the gas. They almost crashed into a Chevy Impala before zipping off home. You could see the animated scowl of the girl refusing to talk to her boyfriend in the side view mirror as they retreated. She glowered at you as if you were the scum of the earth. It didn't make you feel too hot.
The two wisecracking Soc's cackled at their attempts at being hard, stalking forth when they caught sight of your lonesome form. Vile cackles were shot your way as they walked past you before deciding the better option was to encircle you like a couple of hammerhead sharks.
'Boy, these dingbats don't know what tree they're barking up.' You thought, stiffening your body up for any form of unexpected physical contact. You weren't gonna let yourself get blown over that easy.
"What's up, greaser? You lookin' to bum around on our streets?" The six foot tall pencil with the sour breath sneered down at you, bumping your shoulder, making a come around to your left. When he disappeared behind you, the other one with chestnut hair the texture of straw invaded your face.
"Yeah, who said you were allowed round these parts anyway?" He jeered, smacking his gum obnoxiously.
Typically these dorks wouldn't have been graced with so much of your attention, but being on your own with a whole sea of onlookers made you weary. However you sure didn't show it. No one was there to stand up for you so you had to do it yourself. All you could do was raise your eyebrows, feeling the burning sense of humiliation rise from the pits of hell beneath your feet. It felt toasty, but the wrong kind. A glower of pure vexation was sent up their way. 'Who are these cocky jackasses, anyway? I've got the same right to use these streets like anyone else!' You contemplated.
"Oh really? I never knew white trash chequerboards like yourselves owned the streets everybody walks on." Your lips flapped wryly before you could even say a word.
The entertained gazes of onlookers of every social class stopped to stare. Murmurs of speculation broke out: Two against one didn't typically seem like a fair fight, but with the sheer scrawniness of the socially elite, it seemed to look like the chips fell in your favour. Though you knew appearances could be deceiving, harbouring a surprising sense of physical strength.
In a rift of the crowd, six pairs of familiar eyes honed in on your shining moment of unprovoked confrontation.
"White trash chequerboards?!" The pencil growled out, sharing a glance with his straw haired counterpart. For the most part they were dumbfounded, not having expected you to stand up for yourself.
"If anyone's white trash, it's you, greaseball." The second one jutted his finger in your face.
Nothing about your countenance betrayed you. Cold and detached you stared at that finger in your face with a deep sense of boredom. Then an almost smug smirk etched your features as you stared up into his grey eyes.
"Oh my, my!" A dripping sense of mocking venom entered your tone. "Seems like I got more class than that finger you got pointed at me. Seriously, you got a licence to be armed with carryin' that thing? You better watch what you do with it before it falls into the wrong hands. You know, because with great power comes great responsibility and all." You were armed with so much sass it made you invincible.
The crowd surrounding you burst into a fit of laughter so potent that it burnt these punks into a startled pile of ash. The pair of Soc's were so vapid that they were a bore even to themselves, which is why they were acting out as if they were five times their sizes. You were lively, armed with a silver tongue that could slice just about anyone to pieces who tried to humiliate you.
"Oh yeah, you little punk?" The first one growled, invading all sense of your personal space.
You took one step back, your eyebrows raised, "It's his responsibility, not mine. Whatch'yu gettin' all riled up for, eh? Can't take a joke, Mister Funny?"
"I'll show you a joke when I knock your two front teeth out." He barked.
Oooh's and aaah's broke through the crowd on a symphony of guffawing. You cocked one eyebrow up at him, a cockiness overcoming you. What could you do otherwise? If no one had your back, you had to have your own. That was just the way the cookie crumbled when you were a greaser – if there was a cookie at all.
"Oooooh~ Don't threaten me with a good time, pencil dick." You snorted. "I will bend your ass like a goddamn pretzel before you can even have a chance to beg for your mommy to save you."
The two guys shared a look, the degradation burning their senses of pride to withering embers. Their faces were pinkened beyond recognition, boarding on a fiery red. Your insults only poured gasoline on the fires. They couldn't back out now with the engrossed mass around the three of you. Your body stiffened as they went to grab you, preparing yourself for a fight that would no doubt cause the fuzz to come shutting it down. The image of yourself being cuffed in the back of a cop car had you overcome with a sense of terror. You weren't made for jail with your sharp tongue and sass. Wouldn't last two seconds flat in a grim place like that.
Before any contact could occur, a boisterous New York accent throttled into the air, a familiar arm slinking over your shoulders, "Hey Dumb and Dumber, you really wanna go gettin' your asses handed to you by a girl in front of all of these people?" Dallas was snickering with a smoke hanging out of his mouth, leaning against you smoothly as he patted your upper arm, but he wasn't your only saviour.
The other five lean and hard looking members of the Curtis gang had rolled up in all of their greasy headed glory. Pony and Johnny were Dally's flanks whilst Sodapop and Steve jammed themselves on either side of the pathetic turkeys that had bothered you. Two-bit prowled like a cat, that smug, wild grin carved onto his handsome features. The oldest of the six came in the centre of the perpetrators, an arm slung on each of their shoulders. It was overly friendly, even for Two.
"Well, well, well, if it ain't the socially elite barking up a tree they didn't know was a mountain! I'd get your eyes checked if I were you." He laughed, squeezing them together under his impressive arms. The others joined in.
"I think it's time these tuff lookin' sons of bitches got in the ring with the big shots." Steve yipped sarcastically, clapping the straw haired guy on the back a little too roughly.
"Lookin' like a bunch of heavyweight champs, am I right?" Soda leered, his once kind blue eyes filled with a mischievous malice.
The two Soc's looked at each other, realising they'd made a mistake in targeting you. "We don't want any trouble." The first one said, fumbling.
"Yeah! We was only just jokin' around." The other made a pitiful attempt at joining in on the laughter.
"Oh really now?" Dally quipped through dragon's breath, plucking his smoke from his lips and wiping the back of his index finger under his nose like he was annoyed. "I call bullshit, beanpole. Ain't that right, Johnny?" Dally asked Johnny, motioning towards him.
With a black gaze as cold as obsidian, Johnny nodded his head, "Sure thing, Dally." He refused to take his gaze off of the perpetrators who recognised that hoodlum's menacing name anywhere.
"Pony?" Dally turned, looking over your head at the fourteen year old greaser with the greyish green eyes. He put that smoke back in between his lips and inhaled sharply.
"Yup!" Pony popped the 'p' at the end of the word.
"Great, it's settled!" Dally exclaimed, pulling his arm from over your shoulders and rubbing his hands together like a fly with an evil plan. He stepped forward, his face a mere couple of inches from theirs. "You dumbasses get to go toe to toe with me for fucking with the wrong person, and then my buddies will have what's left of you. How do you like the sound of that?"
The way Dally seethed it even had you shaking in your boots. There was almost a sense of honour riding on your guts. It wasn't everyday that Dallas Winston was standing up for you, but when it happened you took it willingly. The two guys had become pale ghosts, shuddering with sweat dewing their foreheads. Dally meant those words, but it seemed he was mainly toying with them. So were the rest of the gang too. With matching Cheshire grins plastered on their faces they watched as the two shoved past Soda, tripping over the boot Johnny had stuck out and shot in through an opening in the crowd to salvation. Sent to faceplant on the ground with a series of laughter as the drama seemed to be over for the most part and people lost interest.
"Where are you goin'? Wait until we set her on ya!" Sodapop called, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulders.
"Yeah, she may seem like she’s all bark, but she's got one hell of a bite!" Steve cackled.
Lost in an ocean of chaos, Johnny's inquiry of concern for you slithered back down his throat. He bled into the background, admiring the way your eyes rolled as the wisecracking descended upon you.
"The hell was that, kid?" Dally said between inhaling his smoke. Rubbing the top of your head with his ringed fingers awarded him with a generous shove from you. His treatment hurt, but he was happy to see you, which was unusual.
"Get offa me-," You grunted and he eventually relented.
Before Steve could chime in about you being a smart ass or wandering around on your lonesome, your most dreaded member of the gang came blundering on over. A half drunken stupor holding him up by some invisible string, "Haha! Where did you learn to talk like that? Dare I say you got some inspiration from somebody in particular?" He waggled his eyebrows at you.
"Oh, well ain't those the biggest words you’ve ever said! Ugh, don’t make me sick, two cents." You bit at him.
"Eh, at least I'm worth somethin' in this world." He chuckled, clapping your shoulder.
"That was meant to be an insult." You retorted.
"Really? That's a whole compliment and a half!" He exclaimed with his arms thrown up.
"Yeah yn, I sure can hear the church bells ringin' right now!" Soda grinned at you, cupping his free hand over his ear. In fact, to seal the deal he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the seven of you began walking to your neighbourhood.
Steve came up on the other side, walking the tight line of the curb, "From haters to lovers!" He beamed, spreading his palms out in the open space before you like he was presenting a far away picture. "It all started when you were in fifth grade and he was in sixth, gum to the hair, a pop to the mouth and the rest was history!"
Johnny listened and observed, laughing halfheartedly along with his buddies. Something about Soda's and Steve's words tugged on his heartstrings in a plucking fashion. It was uncomfortable and didn't sit right with him. Yet he couldn't be too mopey about it, it wasn't like anybody knew his growing feelings for you. By now there was a confusion in your friendship, as if all these special moments you'd experienced together had evolved the friendship into something else. He was afraid of what that meant. Things would never be the same ever again, and he found himself eyeing up the bag full of his clothes on your shoulder and his jeans jacket wadded into your hand.
Well, at least your promise had been genuine this time.
If you weren't riled up before you were now. A sucker punch to the gut was minutely dodged by Steve, who hopped to safety behind Dallas like a kangaroo. Being surrounded by people you knew was nice as the mood settled somewhat. Johnny found his natural place to the left of you, keeping in time with your easy pace.
Sodapop raised his eyebrows and asked the question everyone had been wondering, "Hey yn, what were you doing there all alone?"
"Ain't that Steve's line?" You quipped.
“Gettin’ to be more and more like Ponyboy everyday, yn!” Steve warned, messing up Pony’s hair for comedic relief.
Pony was certainly not pleased, pulling his comb out of his back pocket and using the sideview mirror of a car to fix his hair in the dark. “Stupid Steve…” grumbled past his lips.
“What was that?” Steve barked next to Soda.
“Nothin’, said I looked stupid…” He lied with burnt cheeks and ears to match.
"That's what I thought, little guy." Steve stared at him.
Once the commotion had somewhat settled Dally eyed you up and spoke through his smoke, “Soda’s got a point. What were you doing there?” He noticed that bag over your shoulder and whistled, “Did your goody two shoes ass get kicked out or are you just droppin’ by to bid your farewells on us common folk before you skip town?”
Put on the spot, you hesitated for a second, “Uh, I just came to see Johnny.”
“With the entire mall's inventory?” Two grinned wickedly, pressing for more information. "Johnny's become quite the charity case lately." He teased, noogying Johnny playfully who shrugged him off with a small laugh.
“Hey wait a sec, isn't that Johnny’s jeans jacket?” Pony spoke up once his precious hair had been rearranged.
Dallas’s pesky fingers swiped the jacket in your hands with a mind of his own – and like a chimp, he examined its authentication closely. The five other members gathered around him as if he held the fifth wonder, which left you and Johnny with the liberation of simultaneously backing up at the edges of the throng. “You wanna make a break for it?” You hissed your suggestion at Johnny, who nodded his head.
That’s when five heads whipped up with dumbfounded expressions. This was Johnny’s jacket! The one he said he’d lost. Soda’s eyes were the first to eye up that bag strapped to your shoulder, a familiar grey sweater poking out through the zipper that wouldn't close properly. “Hold on one stinkin’ minute.” Realisation hit him with a dopey grin.
Two caught on next, his hand grasping the bag strap and pulling it from your shoulder. In the same motion he’d freed the grey sweater from the confines, only to find more clothes underneath. “Haha!” He cackled noisily, “You’re the one who’s been swiping his clothes? You sly fox!”
“Johnny and yn sitting in a tree-,” Steve cackled, only to get cut off by Dally who smacked him in the chest.
“What are you man, four?”
“Four?! I’ll show you four!”
“Oh glory-,” You mumbled, looking at Johnny, “I think I made a mistake.”
“You think?” He hissed, his tone was somewhat biting, looking scared stiff for the incoming of terrible teasing.
"Johnny's got a girlfriend! Johnny's got a girlfriend!" Soda and Two started chanting, patting and shaking their pal with enthusiasm. It wasn't long before the other three started in on it too. The chant of the year belted out from strong chests on shrill wails of hyena laughter.
"Check him out, famous ladies man! I knew you had it in ya Johnny." Dally clapped his back.
"Should've known you were stealing my girl, Johnny." Two teased. "You can have her the first five days of the week, but I call dibs on weekends! That's when she gets extra sassy."
"In your dreams, two shits." You barked.
"I dream of sixth grade every night!" Two swooned, making you laugh.
Johnny was as red as a beet, even Ponyboy couldn’t contain his laughter. 'Boy, do we have something to tell Darry!' Pony's and Soda's eyes gleamed dazzlingly.
"Eh, guess you won't be needing this!" Dally grinned from behind you both, softly tugging on his leather jacket Johnny was wearing. In one fell swoop it was off of his shoulders and draped over Dally’s humble forearm.
“Here you go, young sire!” Sodapop bowed with a roll of his hand, an English accent flawlessly executed.
In came Steve on one knee, holding up the humble denim article he'd swiped from Dally's pesky digits. “Oh Johnny, with all of my love for you, will you take this humble offer?” he exclaimed dramatically.
Johnny snatched the jacket from Steve’s gripey hands, along with the bag of his shirts you’d brought along from Two-bit. He was embarrassed, that was evident. Wished you’d done this at a different time, but hey, duty called; a promise was a promise. Scout’s honour, right?
Without even thinking he grabbed your hand in his, reeling you away from the madness, all sassy. “Alright, that’s enough now!”
A chorus of wolf whistles expelled into the air. Wildness evident in the five guys who'd grown up with the both of you. They were just playing of course, excited that Johnny finally had a lady in hand. It wasn't often the raven haired greaser picked someone up, let alone initiated any physical contact – romantically of course. Johnny had always been quite reserved, but here he was taking the initiative, pulling you around in the opposite direction of them. Surprisingly assertive despite him shaking like a goddamn ghost.
You guys got maybe a few feet away when Dallas called out on the wind, “Hey yn, you better not be takin’ off the clothes on Johnny's body or he’ll be arrested for public indecency!”
"I said that's enough!" Johnny called back, heat vivid on his cheeks.
With that you both escaped around the next corner, the gang's calls and laughter fading into the background. Dipped into an alleyway to lose them for good. Glory knew they'd follow you both, and Johnny couldn't bear the thought of that. There was exhilaration in your chests. Johnny's hand was hot and sweaty in yours when you wound onto Pickett and Sutton. The air felt tight and you were afraid you'd just made an inconsolable mess of everything.
“Honest to God Johnny, that wasn’t planned-,”
He was sour, scrunching up his face, “Shoulda just let you keep these things.” He said with a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. “They looked better on you anyway.”
“Johnny Cade,” you gasped, stopping in the middle of the street, the yellow light from above illuminating you both, “was that you flirting with me?”
Albeit clumsy, he was endearing. “Maybe, I dunno.” His cheesy grin warmed your heart.
All you could do was gawk at him.
“Look, all I know is that I kinda don’t mind you stealing my crap, okay?”
“So I have special authority to steal? What is this, a secret mission for your girlfriend?” You grasped onto his arm, leaning into him.
Girlfriend settled in the air in a peculiar fashion. It had never been uttered before, you both had just been friends up until this point. The confusion between you both seemed to fizzle away. The term sounded right. Johnny didn't want to be your friend any more, the guy on the sidelines dreaming of being with you. He swallowed thickly, looking at you.
"I'm sorry I-," he cut you short.
"Nah don't be." He shook his head softly.
"So uh," you breathed a laugh, "that means we're like dating? " You tested the word on your tongue.
He exploded with a blush, and a sense of pride swelled in your heart. "Y-yeah-," he nodded softly.
It went quiet, but nothing was awkward about it. Two hearts galloped like wild horses through summer filled fields. You found the courage to speak first, whispering mischievously into his ear, "So what about that secret mission?"
Johnny rolled his eyes, but breathy humour expelled from his lips, “Operation Shirt Thief!” He said in his best movie man trailer voice.
You burst out in a fit of giggles, the walk home feeling bountiful and warm.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
please like, reblog and follow for more!
requests: closed!
#johnnycade#johnny cade#johnny cade x reader#johnny cade imagines#johnny cade headcanons#the outsiders#the outsiders imagines#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders johnny cade#the outsiders johnny cade x reader#the outsiders johnny cade imagines#the outsiders johnny cade headcanons#i hope you enjoyed!!
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same ol’ love
" from beginning to end, three hundred sixty five days of the year, i want your same ole lovin', baby. "
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confessing to johnny cade scenario.
imagine ..
You and Johnny have that classic "we're just friends" type of love trope. It's clear to everyone but the two of you that there's something more going on. You both fear the possibility of getting hurt or rejected, so you've maintained your status as best friends.
But one day, someone in the gang gets tired of the you two and decides to take matters into their own hands.
"God, Johnny, can't you see that you're both in love with each other?!"
Even after Johnny realizes that the feelings are mutual, he's still nervous about making the first move. So, Dally steps up and takes action. "(your name), you're coming with me and Johnny to the drive-in at 7, no questions asked man."
When you arrive at the drive-in, Dallas is nowhere to be found, leaving you and Johnny feeling lost and confused. You assume Dallas went off to do his own thing, so you decide to get yourself some popcorn and a drink before sitting down. But when you return, Johnny is still sitting there alone.
At first, you're confused as to why Dallas would just leave Johnny by himself. But then a thought hits you, making your heart sink. Dallas was never planning to show up, and it would just be you and Johnny the whole time. This wouldn't have bothered you before, but after Ponyboy told your secret about your feelings for Johnny in front of the whole gang, things have become a bit awkward.
Johnny was never one to openly share his thoughts, so you're left in the dark about whether he feels the same way about you. Ponyboy tries to reassure you, saying that Johnny never stops talking about you when it's just the two of them. But sometimes Ponyboy can be a dumbass, so you're not entirely sure what to believe.
About 15 minutes into the movie, Johnny suggests leaving the drive-in and going to the park. You both walk, feeling the cool night breeze and hearing the distant sound of laughter from nearby greasers enjoying their night.
As you reach the park, you find a cozy spot under a tree. The moonlight casts a soft glow on the surroundings, creating a magical atmosphere. You and Johnny sit down on a bench, looking up at the stars twinkling above.
In that moment, you come to a realization that if you don't come forward and confess first then you and johnny will be " just friends " for the rest of your life, with a nervous smile, you say, "Johnny, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."
He turns to you, his brown eyes filled with curiosity and anticipation, "Yea? what is it ( your name )?"
Taking a deep breath, you quickly confess, "I've realized that you mean so much more to me than just a friend, John—"
A surprised but relieved expression spreads across Johnny's face, he knows exactly what you mean and cuts you off before you can say anymore, "I feel the same way ( your name ), man i was waiting to see if you digged me back"
In that moment, it seemed like both of your shyness and fear melted away, replaced by a profound sense of new love and belonging. You both lean in, sharing a kiss under the moons spotlight.
From that night on, the park becomes a special place for both of you, a reminder of the beautiful confession that brought you together.
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#johnny cade x reader#johnny cade imagines#johnnycade#the outsiders#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#greaserimagines#the outsider imagines#dior-desire#sodapop curtis#steve randle#two bit mathews#darry curtis#johnny cade#greaser#the outsiders fandom#fluff#johnny cade smut#tim shepard#curly shepard#angela shepard#cherry valance#bob sheldon#keith mathews#se hinton
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I know you said it was going to take while, but can you do everyone(sperate) x goth!fem!Reader dating headcannons?
gothic.
the outsiders (separate) x goth!f!reader.
contains. gothic!f!reader.
a/n. sorry if this isn’t really goth! i tried my best, but my style is polar opposite!
pb. curtis.
- he would be a little bit scared when he first met you.
- after getting to know one another better, he would really fall for you.
- loves all your flowy dresses and darker outfits.
- as a greaser, he understands what its like to be made fun of for your outfits or hair, so its definitely something you both understand.
- if somebody’s making fun of you, he would not hesitate to call them out.
- he tries to pick you up gifts he’d think you like.
- don’t expect this boy to come dwelling in scary places with you! he’d freak out and probably pass out!
- overall, he’s super accepting of how you dress, and he’s mostly indifferent to it.
j. cade.
- unlike his friend ponyboy, he wouldn’t be very freaked out.
- i feel like he’d be into goth girls anyway, and all the dark stuff doesn’t phase him much.
- he’s honestly so in love with goth girls.
- if a goth girl asked him to jump, he’d ask how high.
- if anyone has anything to say, he’d probably knock their teeth out on the spot.
- he’d buy you just about anything you’d ask for, or steal it.
- overall, he’s head-over-heels for you, and he doesn’t care much about the goth stuff. he loves you for you.
d. winston.
- he’d be much like johnny, and not gaf about what you wear.
- a bad bitch is a bad bitch to him, regardless of style or anything.
- he’d follow you blindly to any freaky place you’d want to go.
- he wouldn’t be scared to show you off, and he’d defend you if anybody had something to say.
- expect some teasing nicknames, however.
- he’d steal you anything you’d find interesting.
- if he see’s you eyeing something, he’d get it on the spot.
- overall, he’s real good about it, and loves you regardless of what style you have.
d. curtis.
- he’s a pretty traditional guy, he wasn’t horrified by you, but he was a little surprised.
- he’d definitely be thinking about how pretty you are.
- as he get’s to know you better, the makeup and outfits draw him to you even closer.
- any money not spent on the boys would automatically be used to buy gifts for you.
- makeup, clothes, anything you find appealing.
- most people are scared of darry, so nobody would probably talk shit about you in front of him.
- but, if someones talking ill about you behind the both of you, he stands on business. (knocks a tooth clean out.)
- he really loves you for you at the end of the day, and doesn’t care about what anyone has to say.
sp. curtis.
- like his brothers, he’s a bit surprised, but he still finds you real pretty.
- he’s quick to make moves on you, and he doesn’t care what other people think.
- once you guys get together, he sticks to you like glue.
- would also get into a fight if someone had something to say.
- he’s quick to get pissy at girls trying to flirt with him, yet they talk down on you.
- he’s really in love, and doesn’t give a damn about what other people think or have to say.
#the outsiders#ponyboy curtis#sodapop curtis#darry curtis#steve randle#two bit mathews#dallas winston#johnny cade#j cade#johnny#cade#johnnycade#johnny cade x reader#johnny cade x y/n#gothic!reader#dallas winston x reader#steve randle x reader#darry x reader#the outsiders headcanons#dallaswinston#theoutsiders#the outsiders x reader#goth girl#gothic#goth femme#the outsiders sodapop#ponyboy x reader
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lmao i found time to draw before my meeting today so enjoy <3
#band au#the outsiders#the outsiders fanart#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#johnnycade#johnny cade#johnnyboy#pb&j#the outsiders band au
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imagine Pony reading to Johnny's grave
#the outsiders#sodapop curtis#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#ponyboy michael curtis#johnnycade#ponyboy x johnny#johnnyboy#best friends#greasers#socs#se hinton#steve randle#darry curtis#dally winston#two bit mathews#the outsiders dally#sad thoughts#imagine#fandom#outsiders fanfic#angst#feels
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desi!johnny cade handwriting
(i only know how to write in punjabi so thats what yall are getting)
i feel like his writing is pretty tiny, but not that messy
also its not exactly the best handwriting in the whole world, but it’s pretty good compared to most greasers
(only other desi johnny truthers @coquettejohnny @pumpkinsy0)
#desi johnny cade#johnny cade headcanons#the outsiders johnny#johnny cade#johnnycade#the outsiders#the outsiders headcanons
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EUGENE MARTONE - Crossroads (1986)
Played by RALPH MACCHIO (my husband)
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
#ralph macchio#daniel larusso x reader#daniel larusso#johnnycade#love him and his mullet#☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ states#he was 25 in this movie#johnny cade x y/n#johnny cade x reader#thank you for the notes!
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Guys I did it 🔥 someone had to
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I love you Thomas Cruise Mapother IV
#steve randle#goosemav#pride month#tom cruise#top gun#sodapop curtis#bob sheldon#curly shepard#buck merrill#dallas winston#top gun 1986#1980s#ice man#Steve randle#i forgot i had a tumblr#tom crusie#Goose#johnnycade#peter maverick mitchell#ponyboy michael curtis
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Twobit liked Marcia, Marcia liked Cherry, Cherry liked Dally, and Dally like Johnny
You can’t change my mind
#the outsiders#jally#cherryxmarcia#marbit#marcia the outsiders#cherryvalance#johnnycade#dallaswintson#Twobitmatthews
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just two dumb bitches telling each other “exactly”
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Being dally"s sister and dating johnny 0w0
heya lovely! i hope you enjoyed what i came up with. my bad that it took forever! it was a bit tricky for me to write ngl. <3 - mae
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Being Dallas Winston's Sister and Dating Johnny Cade Hc's:
° Picking up somebody like Johnny-cake was quite surprising indeed. Still to this day, nobody really understands how you managed to pull it off. This takes into consideration that he's so quiet. He certainly wasn't the one that made the first move, particularly regarding the fact that you're Dallas Winston's sibling. However, you both caught feelings for one another in an unfathomable way. It began with silent admiration that turned into… more.
° You yourself had never been particularly shy, though you also weren't as abhorrent as your older brother Dallas. A miraculous happy medium that - much like your brother - always got whatever you wanted. You went out and acquired it in your own Winston way. You hadn't felt much fear in shooting your shot with Johnny. Well partially, that is: One could never know how finicky your older brother would become if you tried to date his best friend. Yet you put that to the side. After all, the worst thing that could happen with Johnny is that he turned you down and never spoke to you. Similar to your brother, you weren't really afraid of much.
° Your method was understandably considerate: You'd asked Johnny gently, and when the gang or other people weren't around, so the possibility of reporting back to Dally wasn't an immediate option. It saved you both a huge amount of hassle. Though nonetheless, it caught the noir haired greaser off guard for quite some time. Poor guy looked as though he had totally short circuited.
° Johnny was like a gasping fish, facing you with a wide eyed expression. He wondered for a moment if Dal had set you up to perform some sick, sadistic joke on him. It was his style to mess with folks like this, but he wouldn't use his baby sibling as the brunt force of a joke. Not directly that is. It was your sincere features that made him realise you'd done this of your own accord, with the utmost seriousness.
° You'd been nonchalant, “If you’re not up to it then no sweat.”
° A mere technique to pretend as if you weren't even a lick of upset with the way he stared at you like that. Johnny could see the hurt dancing in your eyes, taking hold of your heart. Witnessed it well up on your waterline despite the fact you fought so hard to disguise it.
° “It- it ain’t l-like that, yn.” He tried to assure you. “It’s just- Dally’s my buddy and all. It- it wouldn't look good, ya d-dig?”
° “Besides, i-it ain’t like I d-don’t dig ya like that. It’s just-” You cut him short bitterly.
° “He’d kick the tar outta you.”
° The silence that came next sprouted some tension. Eventually Johnny decided that fretting wasn't going to get him anywhere. You'd convinced him to at least spend a bit more time with you. All under the context of friendship, of course. You weren’t itching to betray his trust with ulterior motives. He could handle that, despite it feeling shady. Things naturally blossomed over a long period of time, and Johnny was a true friend that pulled up his boot straps to tell Dallas.
° Guilt swirled in Johnny’s guts. He couldn’t deny that. He chewed his fingernails to shit, appearing like a hacked up mess. Dallas wasn’t exactly the best big brother to you, but he was protective nonetheless. You were the only solid family he really had that he could rely on even a little. You two weren’t joint at the hip persay, being as he was in and out of the cooler so often: Not to mention the fact that you didn’t live together either. You both led different lives (although you weren’t a goody goody at all), but you still had a bond.
° Johnny respected that bond and he respected his own friendship with Dally that stopped him from pursuing anything further. But now that things had changed, he needed to do the right thing and fess up. Guilt and Johnny Cade never mixed well together. A concoction as powerful as gasoline and match. It’d eat him alive with paranoia that he’d find out some other way. He wasn’t itching to get socked in the jaw by Dallas.
° When your brother did discover that you were dating somebody, boy was he nosey! In heated moments he proclaims passionately that he, “doesn’t give a hang about you,” but really he does. He looks out for himself, making a show of how looking out for you is a hassle. However he does actually keep an eye out for you secretly. Anyone who bothers you and you’re unable to handle it on your lonesome gets the famous Dallas Winston treatment.
° When Dally did find out, the words sounded almost unreal to him. “You’re shittin’ me right? Pullin’ my damn leg!” He just took it as some big joke, but then it hit him.
° He isn’t happy that you’ve been hanging around his friend’s; and now you’re dating one of them?!
° His alarms eventually subside when he gets used to the idea you’re dating Johnny. It’s weird, but he gets over it because things could be worse. You could be dating Tim Shepard!
° But Dal is still a bit on edge. He’s gotta have the talk with Johnny. But may have avoided the kid at first to prevent himself from socking him in the jaw. Johnny was the pet of the gang, he had to act cool about this since they’d been buddies for a long time. Hell, the gang hears Johnny’s dating you through the grapevine themselves and it’s surprising to say the least. However, they’re more likely to tease you guys right off the bat.
° “I guess fate gave us a bit’a piece. They were gonna find out sooner than later.” Johnny shrugged one evening when he walked you home.
° The only reason Dal didn’t go absolutely ballistic was because it was Johnny. Why hadn’t he told him sooner? Has this been an ongoing thing for awhile now? He always thought he had an eye for these sorts of things, but Johnny never let it slip once out of fear. It was understandable with the track record Dally had at the station. So really there was no sweat. Besides, he didn’t wanna know all of the details, that’d be gross and set him off into a stressed out rage.
° Yet as the ball kept rolling, Dally (sat there dumbfounded) couldn’t get too mad at Johnny for how he’d gone about everything. Anyone would be terrified to date his sibling and confront him about it.
° Johnny did not escape the lecture (more like threats) that Dally had in store for him. You know, the typical big brother stuff.
° “You hurt ‘em and so help me God kid, you’re dead meat.”
° “F-fair e-enough! N-n-not that I-I would a-anyway!”
° Dally does back off quickly after telling Johnny, “No hanky panky, okay? I’m not itchin’ to be an uncle or anything!” and laughs when Johnny just about faints from going so red in the face. Well he mostly backs off…
° Dally isn’t the best big brother, he’s annoying as hell, so expect him to crash your dates at the start, roping in Two, Soda and Steve to bug y’all.
° “No hanky panky kids.”
° “Hanky panky? What are you, fifty?”
° Being Dally's sibling entails that you’re sassy as hell. You have no problem telling those four asshats where to go. It’s colourfully adorned with curses that even puts Dally to shame.
° “Where’d you learn to talk like that?” Soda grinned all big at you.
° “I’d tell you, but I don’t think a high school dropout could keep up.” Man were you mouthy or what that evening!
° After their teasing they got the message eventually, but not being laughing their asses off. You’d fight God with your bare fists if they tried something like that again. Man were you steaming something awful.
° Johnny has to console you for the rest of your date because you're shaking.
° “You’re shakin’! C’mon, it’s just the gang- let it roll off your back.”
° “I’m gonna fight ‘em!”
° “Listen, if you keep gettin’ madder I’m scared your head’ll explode.”
° You and Johnny really compliment each other well. He evens out your wildness, gets you to settle. You help him come out of his shell more and feel more confident in himself: He’s happy to let you take the lead whilst he follows with patience and good naturedness.
° PDA is something you know Johnny is self-conscious about around strangers so you avoid it like the plague in front of the gang. It just feels weird, but either way you both will be teased by the gang no matter what you do until the news completely blows over.
° You both like to spend evenings in the vacant lot when it’s not too cold. You don’t really have much of a curfew so it’s not as if you’re missing anywhere really besides a friend's house because you avoid your old man’s place.
° Johnny doesn’t have very much, but that doesn’t bother you. If you’d wanted money or pretty things then you’d have dated someone like Bob Randle. It’s the person that he is that drives you wild in a lovey dovey way. Somehow though, Johnny does his best to treat you to nice things when he can. It makes him feel like he’s being a good boyfriend to you.
° Although he’s quiet, he talks more with you than he does with Pony. He’s more relaxed, which is a rare sight for him. You make him feel safe and in turn he makes you feel safe as well. He could trust you to back him up even in a rumble if he needed it - not that him or Dallas would ever let you do such a thing.
° He’s sensitive, which is a breath of fresh air for you. You’re quite sensitive underneath it all too. So sometimes you’re both inclined to have deeper conversations, but I also envision giggling fits in the darkness of the vacant lot of summer nights. Your fingers intertwined as you’re both on the verge of sleep. It’s sweet.
° He’s a gentleman to you. Johnny could never treat you with a bad drop in the sea. He cares too much for you.
° You bring out a goofy Johnny that the gang loves! He’s laughing and grinning so much that you put Two to shame. It’s a pleasant thing to witness.
° He likes to cuddle with you. It’s rather sweet in all honesty. He’s touch starved so doesn’t really know how to initiate these types of things, but you’re good at just leaning into him. Although he’s stiff as a board to begin with, he thaws out eventually and may even fall asleep. Especially if you play with his hair!
° His kisses are light and sweet. There’s always a blush and slight goofy grin plastered on his face once you pull away. Teasing only deepens it before he says, “Aw cut it out already!”
° You encounter sassy Johnny so much nowadays. It’s the Winston touch of getting under people's skin. You take it as a good thing, a comfort ability.
° Y’all are relatively even so arguments aren’t really likely. Johnny hates confrontation so avoids it as much as possible. You’re more blunt, but not as crazy aggro like Dallas. So you let a lot of things roll off your back. It fits with the gentle pace of your relationship. It’s just a vibe, man!
° Don’t think that Johnny isn’t protective of you just because he’s on the quieter side. Johnny would defend you with his last breath, but he understands you can handle things yourself. He’s not itching to step on your toes. However he shows he cares when he walks you home late at night, stands a little closer to you when there’s a wild pack of Soc’s around and he suddenly looks tougher than a bag of nails to an outsider.
° Lord knows that you’re protective of him too. You’re just more proactive with your approach. Defending him noisily can get embarrassing but it’s the spirit that counts right? He really appreciates you.
° Despite your differences, there are a lot of similarities too. You balance each other out and develop quite a deep bond. Johnny’s love language is definitely spending quality time with you. So although there might not be many words spoken as you read over notes from class with him in the library, it’s these little moments that cause Johnny to fall more deeply in love with you than he ever did before.
° I can definitely see Johnny daydreaming in class about you or even sneaking glances at you as the teacher gives their lecture. His black eyes are fondly sparkling. It sucks when the teacher calls on him to answer the equation though. He just about dies in his chair.
° He likes to walk you to different classes too. Just waiting for you as the bell goes off. That quiet, “Hey yn,” warms your heart when you press a kiss to his cheek.
° “Hey!” You say louder.
° Lends you his denim jacket sometimes, especially when you fall asleep on the couch. He just drapes it over you which is so wholesome! Can’t help but smile as he presses a kiss to your warm forehead. “Sleep tight, yn…” he coos gently.
° Please protect this guy at all costs. He’s genuinely been through enough :-:
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
please like, reblog and follow for more!
requests: closed!
#johnnycade#dallaswinston#johnny cade#johnny cade headcanons#johnny cade imagines#johnny cade x reader#the outsiders#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders imagines#the outsiders johnny cade#the outsiders johnny cade imagines#the outsiders johnny cade headcanons#the outsiders johnny cade x reader#hope you enjoyed it <333
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Theyre on a date
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REQUEST LIST
Things I’ll write: Headcanons, blurbs, incorrect quotes, smut, specific requests, Curtis!sister, mini fics, mature topics, death, pregnancy
Things I won’t write: Nasty ass shit (iykyk), I won’t go into details tbh, because I’ll just not answer the request if I don’t feel comfortable writing it.
(If you’d like to see my writing style before requesting, check out my other two blogs milshelbsrequests and milshelbs)
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
❤️🔥- smut
💔- angst
🤍- fluff
🩵- funny
💜- curtis sister
Darry being scared of bugs - Headcanon 💔
Pt 2
Ponyboy’s Twin Sister - Headcanon 💜🤍🩵
Two-Bit never shuts tf up - Headcanon 🩵
Modern!AU - Headcanon
Showing the gang your sketchbook - Headcanon 🤍🩵
A Dumbass Brother - mini fic 💜🤍
#The outsiders#SE Hinton#Curtis#johnnycade#dallywinston#the outsiders incorrect quotes#the outsiders headcanons#darrycurtis#sodapopcurtis#ponyboycurtis#two-bitmatthews#Steverandell#The outsiders fanfiction#headcanons#requests#the outsiders smut
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Can you write two bit x a male hockey player reader :3
✿༺ 𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱 ༻✿
➵ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗍. 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗐𝗌 ��� 𝗆. 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
➵ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌
➵ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟨𝟩𝟪
➵ 𝖺/𝗇: 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍
✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿
“𝖶𝖧𝖮𝖮𝖮!” 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋, “𝖦𝖮 𝖸/𝖭!”
𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗒, 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋.
𝖠𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖼𝖾, 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍, 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖧𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅.
“𝖮𝖧 𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖳!” 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎.
𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖿 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗅𝖾, 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗄, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖿 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁, 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖾𝖽. 𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌.
“𝖦𝖤𝖳 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖫𝖤 𝖮𝖥𝖥 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖨𝖢𝖤!” 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖿, 𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗎𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎.
𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖿 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗈𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝗍. 𝖠𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗐𝗈𝗇 𝟤𝟥-𝟤𝟨.
𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆. 𝖢𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗇, 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗈���𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽, 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗈𝖿𝖿. 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽. 𝖠𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄, 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇.
“𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾.” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖧𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎.
“𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖨 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄?” 𝖧𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾.
“𝖬𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝗎𝗁?” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗅𝗒.
“𝖠𝗂𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾,” 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋, “𝖨’𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋.” 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌. 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌” 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 “𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁”, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾.
“𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝗈𝗄 𝗒’𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐,” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄. 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌,
“𝖪𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁, 𝖨’𝗆 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝖨𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍.”
“𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾, 𝗒/𝗇,” 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌, “𝖨 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍… 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍.” 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎.
𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍. 𝖠𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽. 𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗀𝗎𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖳𝗐𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.
𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌.
“𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎.” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.
“𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗈,” 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, “𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝖨’𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆.”
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