Bibi ☆°•౨ৎ

minor | scorpio | infp

[sixt13s-baby]

•°Tulsa Jesus Freak°•

Hiii I'm Bibi, I write for The Outsiders and The Marauders. I can't say that I'll write for all the characters yet but I am open to any requests that are family friendly

Some things about me:

my top artists are lana del rey, tlsp, and jeff buckley. my fav movies are breakfast at tiffany's, kill bill, and surf's up hobbies; crochet, reading, writing, playlist making

that's it ig<3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳Masterlist ❥

Dallas Winston

One-shots ᝰ.ᐟ

Spooky

Then He Kissed Me

52 Pick Up.

Chrysanthemum 🪷ꕤ ⋆｡°‧.

Playlist. Moodboard

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Barty Crouch Jr

Headcanons

Whose Girl?

Playlists

Dallas Winston

Barty Crouch Jr

Sirius Black

Regulus Black

James Potter

Daryl Dixon

Peter Maximoff

[blooomingkisses]

Kirsten Dunst is to Sofia Coppola what Saoirse Ronan is to Greta Gerwig and Uma Thurman is to Quentin Tarantino and Molly Ringwald is to John Hughes and I think that’s just so beautiful

[shelookedlikestarlight]

🖤Barty Crouch Jr. moodboard🖤

[sixt13s-baby]

Whose Girl?

barty crouch jr x potter!oc

Melina Potter's eyes go wide as she hears the next words come out of Amos Diggory's mouth.

"Look, you're nice but I can't risk making a pass at Crouch's girl. I heard what he did to that Ravenclaw-"

Crouch's girl?

He couldn't be referring to her...Could he?

"I'm sorry- who's girl?" she sputtered out. Amos tilted his head, looking at her like she had grown two heads.

"You and Crouch are together, are you not?"

Melina scrunched her brows, her face becoming vexed. "I most certainly am not. Who said I was?" She demanded.

"Uhm, Crouch?"

"Did he now?" she scoffs. She crosses her arms. "What else did he say?"

~~~

Melina marches down the hall, making near collisions with other students. All she can focus on is the way she'll hex Barty once she catches sight of him. As soon as she turns the corner she sees him. He's with Evan, a cloud of smoke curls around them as he takes a drag from the cigarette that rests between his fingers. She marches right up to him. Her hair is wind-swept and her frown lines prominent.

"Looks like someone's in trouble," Evan mocks with a lazy smirk. Barty follows Evan's eyeline, his eyes widen imperceptibly.

"We need to talk," Melina takes hold of Barty's wrist and drags him away. He looks back at Evan in question, his friend waving goodbye with a mischievous smile. Melina walks into the first empty classroom she finds. She bursts through the door, finding two students in a compromised position.

"Out," her voice is low and grave. The two students quickly gather their bearings and scurry out the door. Melina closes it, locking it.

Barty looks around the classroom before his eyes ultimately land on Melina. He leans against a desk with an amused smirk. "If you wanted me alone, you could've just said so-"

"Just- stop right there, genius," She lifts her hand. "Why is it that I find out through, Amos Diggory, of all people in this castle, that I am 'Barty Crouch Jr's girlfriend'?"

Barty's face goes serious. All amusement drains from his face. "You mean...? I thought I was being obvious."

"Not obvious enough if I didn't know," Silence falls between them. Melina crosses her arms as she waits.

"What about all those times I invited you to lunch? All of those late night study sessions in the library? To you, they were..." he stares into her eyes.

"Friendly?" She replies with transparency.

"Friendly!" he repeats, as if it offends him. He lifts off the desk. "Friendly, she says!" Barty runs a hand through his hair. "Melina, I know how you like your tea- two sugars, no milk. I notice how your handwriting changes when you're tired, or how you always get allergies whenever you stay in the library for too long!"

All of their friends thought it was unusual when he showed up with allergy medicine to their study sessions. But she had written it off as him being considerate.

"Don't raise your voice at me! I should be the one getting upset! You never said it meant anything! " All of the nights she spent complaining to Dorcas come to mind, causing her face to heat up. "All of these past months of going crazy, wondering 'when will that fool get the hint'," she stops right in front of him. "Turns out, I was the fool!"

He tilts his head. "What about that time I beat up that guy for mouthing you off?" Melina opened her mouth but nothing comes out.

"He deserved it!" Her words get caught in her throat. "At least...that's what you said..." she fiddles with her bracelet.

"Damnit Melina!" he takes a step closer. "I don't do 'friendly'! I don't do that stuff just for anyone!" he pushes his hair back.

"How should I know? You didn't say it meant anything!" She pushes him with her finger, taking a step closer.

"I didn't think I needed too!"

They're breathing is uneven. Heat lingers between them, close enough to feel. They stand there, looking into each other's eyes. Neither of them speak, not feeling the need to. Melina holds his gaze, then turns away. Barty's hands hover over her jaw before settling. He leans in and kisses her.

Melina wraps her arms around his shoulders pulling him closer. His hands wander down to her waist locking her in place. They stumble back, the desk catching them. Melina curls her fingers in his hair, then pulls away.

"You suck," a smile tugs at her lips.

"Tell me about it," he says, already leaning back in.

[kaihasmoreswagthanyou3]

headphones aren't enough i need to eat the song

[sixt13s-baby]

Barty Crouch Jr Headcanons

authors note: barty has been on my mind lately and I swear there is a major barty drought. some of these may be original some may not, and for the sake of my own mental health this is an au where voldy does not exist...this fandom will not let me catch a break.

Major daddy issues

I know this one isn't grounbreaking, but I do think that he lowk needs ppl's attention. like his father's lack of reaction or approval bleeds into his relationships. he always needs to be the loudest or the funniest in the room gauge a reaction to ensure that he's well liked. all while pretending he doesn't care. (who said that)

2. Slytherin

okay, this one also isn't super interesting or new but i've read many one-shots/wips where he's a ravenclaw and tbh I think he's more of a Slytherin. this also kinda ties back to the major daddy issues bc it allows him to be more ambitious and willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants. no hate to my "ravenclaw Barty" girlies, you do you. I still eat it up

3. All roads lead to Pandora

this one is kinda a Slytherin Skittles one. Pandora def introduced all of them to each other. she took them all in like stray kittens yk. Evan is her twin, obvi. regulus was the little emo loner, and dorcas with rbf she had one interaction with Pandora and was "you're hella weird" (affectionate). and finally Barty...he kinda showed up one day and never left, tbh no one questioned it. in addition, every one of them thinks their the leader, it's actually Pandora...and dorcas is the muscle

4. dead mother

we're gonna get real for a second. there are two possibilities for this. 1) barty's mom was terminally ill with some magic disease and died before his first year at Hogwarts leading his father to become distant and stuff or 2) she died at birth and that led to barty's father resenting him. I prefer the 2nd bc it has little more kick to it but either way it explains why crouch sr. resents crouch jr....and blames him for it too.

5. herbology (+ astrology)

he's actually really good at herbology and enjoys it. probs has to do with the fact that his father blames the death him for the death of his mother and doesn't want to feel responsible for killing another thing. he doesn't want to admit it bc he doesn't think it's as tuff as defense against the dark arts. the same with astrology, he's really into and good at it but thinks it's too girly for him. even tho Pandora literally knows bc they talk about it.

okay, chat. that's the end of my headconans, there aren't as many as I thought but if there are any other requests or suggestions (or fic recs) please send them my way.

-bibi౨ৎ

[sixt13s-baby]

Chapter 4

Nowhere Man

In the following weeks, Honey fell into a rhythm. She split her time between Al's and her father's autoshop. On weekends she usually drifted between her house and Angela's. At least, when Angela wasn't working.

Tulsa had grown smaller with each passing day. As far as Honey was concerned, she was stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Just when Honey thought she had Tulsa figured out, Dallas Winston started appearing at Al's.

She hadn't given him much thought after their first encounter. The only idea she had of him came from Johnny's stories.

According to Johnny, Dallas Winston was cool and tough. A hardened criminal from New York.

But to Honey he was guy with way too much time on his hands.

He goes into Al's every week, flips through the records and then leaves. Honey even tried more than once to strike up a conversation with him.

But he'd only answer with as little words as possible.

As the weeks went by, Honey's patience wore thin. The next time he came in, Honey didn't bother hiding her annoyance.

She was hunched over the counter drawing on a scrap of paper. She only peeled her eyes off it when the bell rang. And there he went.

To the same shelves. To the same records. Flipping.

Honey's unsure what about him annoys her the most. Could it be the way he always drums his fingers on the shelves, his inability to stand still. Or maybe that big ugly skull ring he's always wearing.

She rolled her eyes. "You come in every week and look through the same shelves with the same record vinyls. You were here last week and the week before that. They haven't changed."

He glamced back at her. "What? I ain't allowed to look?"

Honey sets her pencil down. "You've looked at every single record in this shop." His eyes flicked back at the shelves.

"Maybe I'm thorough." He shrugs.

"Well, are you planning on buying anything in the very near future?" She leans against the counter.

"Maybe." He smirks.

"Can you 'maybe' a little faster? You've been 'maybe-ing' for a month."

He pretends to think about before answering, "Maybe later." He leaves with a ring of the bell.

────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

The next day, at her father's autoshop, she leans against a car Steve is working on.

"Hey," she says casually. "Could you tell your friend that next time he goes into Al's to at least buy something?"

"What friend?" He calls out from under the car.

"The Yankee with the Saint Chris." She picks at the tattered rag. "He's taking up valuable oxygen meant for real customers."

Steve rolls out from under the car with a frown.

"At the rate he's going, he should be clocking in, not me."

Steve stares at her until it clicks.

"You mean Dally?" He pushes himself off the creeper, taking the rag from Honey wiping his hands on it.

"If that's his name, yes." Honey's eyes follow Steve to the tool cart.

"He ain't there for the music." The clinking of tools distracts from his chuckle.

Honey frowns. "Then why is he in a record shop?"

"I'll make sure to mention it to him." Steve pats her shoulder as he gets back on the creeper and disappears under the car.

"Don't mention it. Write it in the sky with big, fat letters."

────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Honey doesn't know if Steve actually took her seriously when she said to write it in the sky. But whatever he said seemed to have cause Dallas Winston to stop going to Al's

Although they rarely spoke, the shop had gotten quiet.

Too quiet.

Despite Honey's relief, she still kept her eyes on the shop entrance expecting him to walk in with a ring of the bell.

Being in control of the music in a record shop and getting the chance to organize records by genre first, alphabet second is all good fun. But even that can get repetitive after a while.

Seeing the same guy, at the same time, flipping through the same records should've gotten repetitive too.

As the days passed, she came to the slow realization that Dallas Winston had become the most exciting part of her summer.

He always wore the same brown leather jacket no matter how hot the glare of the sun got. His hair was never greased or how he always wore that Saint Christopher pendant around his neck.

In Johnny's descriptions of Dally, he never mentioned if he was Catholic.

Honey didn't know what it was about him she wanted to know.

Only, now she hadn't gotten the chance.

If things hadn't been strange then, they were now.

Honey came home from Al's. As soon as she opens the door, the smell of meat, onions, and spices fill her senses.

Since Honey's arrival, her father had only cooked eggs in different variations or they would go to the Dingo on Sundays mornings.

So color Honey surprised when she sees that her dad actually cooked a real meal.

With no eggs.

"Ah good, you're here. Sit down." Honey closes the door behind her. Every step she takes to the table is hesitant.

She hangs her bag on the back of the chair and walks over to her father, peering over his shoulder. "You made caldo de res?" She watches with furrowed brows as he stirs the broth.

"Yeah, it's your favorite, right?" He serves two bowls, squeezing some lime with practiced ease. He takes the bowls, setting them down, getting comfortable in his chair.

"Provecho." He says, rolling up his sleeves.

"Thanks...?"

Honey decided not to question it and appreciate the food in front of her. Their dinner was silent, like it usually was. She appreciated moments like this. Back in California, the house was always alive with chatter. But here, she was able to stop and breathe.

Honey leaned back against the chair, patting her belly as her dad took the empty bowls to the sink.

"I hope you're not too full for ice cream." He says as he swiftly washed the dishes.

Honey's face fell. "What are you doing?"

"Rascándome las nalgas. What does it look like I'm doing?" He quipped back with ease, drying his hands.

She sat up properly. "But it's not Sunday...? Are you hiding something?"

"Are you saying you don't want ice cream?" Honey didn't justify that with an answer.

He sighed, drying his hands. "You're just like your mother, observant."

"Pa..." she gave a warning glare.

"Your mother called, she said she wants you to stay in Tulsa."

Honey's mouth went dry. Suddenly her skin felt claustrophobic, as if the world were closing in on her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"For how long?"

Her father shakes his head. "I'll have to enroll you in school."

His words hung in the air. To add insult to injury, he continued.

"She said to make a list of things you want from your room, she's sending over the rest of your clothes."

Honey slumps back into the chair, sighing.

"Did she tell you to do all of this?" Honey gestures to the table.

"No, that was me." He leans against the counter, crossing his arms.

Honey nods her head. "That's nice," she pauses tapping her fingers on the table.

"I could really go for that ice cream now."

────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Masterlist. Playlist

Prev. Next

[dallysbailey]

i love this series!! 😭 a Latina oc is everything to me, Honey reminds me of myself 🥹💛

[sixt13s-baby]

Omg thanks lovely🫶 your words bring me so much joy🙉🙈

[sixt13s-baby]

Chapter 4

Nowhere Man

In the following weeks, Honey fell into a rhythm. She split her time between Al's and her father's autoshop. On weekends she usually drifted between her house and Angela's. At least, when Angela wasn't working.

Tulsa had grown smaller with each passing day. As far as Honey was concerned, she was stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Just when Honey thought she had Tulsa figured out, Dallas Winston started appearing at Al's.

She hadn't given him much thought after their first encounter. The only idea she had of him came from Johnny's stories.

According to Johnny, Dallas Winston was cool and tough. A hardened criminal from New York.

But to Honey he was guy with way too much time on his hands.

He goes into Al's every week, flips through the records and then leaves. Honey even tried more than once to strike up a conversation with him.

But he'd only answer with as little words as possible.

As the weeks went by, Honey's patience wore thin. The next time he came in, Honey didn't bother hiding her annoyance.

She was hunched over the counter drawing on a scrap of paper. She only peeled her eyes off it when the bell rang. And there he went.

To the same shelves. To the same records. Flipping.

Honey's unsure what about him annoys her the most. Could it be the way he always drums his fingers on the shelves, his inability to stand still. Or maybe that big ugly skull ring he's always wearing.

She rolled her eyes. "You come in every week and look through the same shelves with the same record vinyls. You were here last week and the week before that. They haven't changed."

He glamced back at her. "What? I ain't allowed to look?"

Honey sets her pencil down. "You've looked at every single record in this shop." His eyes flicked back at the shelves.

"Maybe I'm thorough." He shrugs.

"Well, are you planning on buying anything in the very near future?" She leans against the counter.

"Maybe." He smirks.

"Can you 'maybe' a little faster? You've been 'maybe-ing' for a month."

He pretends to think about before answering, "Maybe later." He leaves with a ring of the bell.

────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

The next day, at her father's autoshop, she leans against a car Steve is working on.

"Hey," she says casually. "Could you tell your friend that next time he goes into Al's to at least buy something?"

"What friend?" He calls out from under the car.

"The Yankee with the Saint Chris." She picks at the tattered rag. "He's taking up valuable oxygen meant for real customers."

Steve rolls out from under the car with a frown.

"At the rate he's going, he should be clocking in, not me."

Steve stares at her until it clicks.

"You mean Dally?" He pushes himself off the creeper, taking the rag from Honey wiping his hands on it.

"If that's his name, yes." Honey's eyes follow Steve to the tool cart.

"He ain't there for the music." The clinking of tools distracts from his chuckle.

Honey frowns. "Then why is he in a record shop?"

"I'll make sure to mention it to him." Steve pats her shoulder as he gets back on the creeper and disappears under the car.

"Don't mention it. Write it in the sky with big, fat letters."

────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Honey doesn't know if Steve actually took her seriously when she said to write it in the sky. But whatever he said seemed to have cause Dallas Winston to stop going to Al's

Although they rarely spoke, the shop had gotten quiet.

Too quiet.

Despite Honey's relief, she still kept her eyes on the shop entrance expecting him to walk in with a ring of the bell.

Being in control of the music in a record shop and getting the chance to organize records by genre first, alphabet second is all good fun. But even that can get repetitive after a while.

Seeing the same guy, at the same time, flipping through the same records should've gotten repetitive too.

As the days passed, she came to the slow realization that Dallas Winston had become the most exciting part of her summer.

He always wore the same brown leather jacket no matter how hot the glare of the sun got. His hair was never greased or how he always wore that Saint Christopher pendant around his neck.

In Johnny's descriptions of Dally, he never mentioned if he was Catholic.

Honey didn't know what it was about him she wanted to know.

Only, now she hadn't gotten the chance.

If things hadn't been strange then, they were now.

Honey came home from Al's. As soon as she opens the door, the smell of meat, onions, and spices fill her senses.

Since Honey's arrival, her father had only cooked eggs in different variations or they would go to the Dingo on Sundays mornings.

So color Honey surprised when she sees that her dad actually cooked a real meal.

With no eggs.

"Ah good, you're here. Sit down." Honey closes the door behind her. Every step she takes to the table is hesitant.

She hangs her bag on the back of the chair and walks over to her father, peering over his shoulder. "You made caldo de res?" She watches with furrowed brows as he stirs the broth.

"Yeah, it's your favorite, right?" He serves two bowls, squeezing some lime with practiced ease. He takes the bowls, setting them down, getting comfortable in his chair.

"Provecho." He says, rolling up his sleeves.

"Thanks...?"

Honey decided not to question it and appreciate the food in front of her. Their dinner was silent, like it usually was. She appreciated moments like this. Back in California, the house was always alive with chatter. But here, she was able to stop and breathe.

Honey leaned back against the chair, patting her belly as her dad took the empty bowls to the sink.

"I hope you're not too full for ice cream." He says as he swiftly washed the dishes.

Honey's face fell. "What are you doing?"

"Rascándome las nalgas. What does it look like I'm doing?" He quipped back with ease, drying his hands.

She sat up properly. "But it's not Sunday...? Are you hiding something?"

"Are you saying you don't want ice cream?" Honey didn't justify that with an answer.

He sighed, drying his hands. "You're just like your mother, observant."

"Pa..." she gave a warning glare.

"Your mother called, she said she wants you to stay in Tulsa."

Honey's mouth went dry. Suddenly her skin felt claustrophobic, as if the world were closing in on her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"For how long?"

Her father shakes his head. "I'll have to enroll you in school."

His words hung in the air. To add insult to injury, he continued.

"She said to make a list of things you want from your room, she's sending over the rest of your clothes."

Honey slumps back into the chair, sighing.

"Did she tell you to do all of this?" Honey gestures to the table.

"No, that was me." He leans against the counter, crossing his arms.

Honey nods her head. "That's nice," she pauses tapping her fingers on the table.

"I could really go for that ice cream now."

────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Masterlist. Playlist

Prev. Next

[sixt13s-baby]

Happy Birthday boyfriend💋💋

(Come home the kids miss you)

[sixt13s-baby]

Chapter 5

Boots Made for Walking

The morning birds chirp a little tune as Honey sleeps peacefully, breathing in slow and steady. Honey's leg is hiked up the bed as she holds her stuffed bear close to her chest.

Angela sneaks into Honey's room, careful not to wake her up. She makes her way over to the curtains, opening them letting all of the summer sun in.

“Rise and shine!” Angela says in a sing-song tone, “Are you excited for our last day of summer run down?”

Honey groans, squeezing her teddy bear to her chest. She pulls the thin covers over her head to shield herself from the bright sun.

“Angie what time is it?” she questions going into a fetal position.

“Time to get up!” Angela swiftly pulls the covers off of Honey’s curled up form.

“Oh god!” Honey exclaims feeling the cold air hit her skin like a thousand needles. She shuts her eyes and buries her face into her teddy bear.

“Up Honey, or you'll miss out on all the fun.” Angela heads to the dresser, pulling out an outfit for Honey.

Honey rolls over, taking a look at the clock on her nightstand. “It’s seven in the morning?” Honey questions groggily, squinting her eyes at the clock. “What is it with you freaks and waking up so early!” She rolls onto her back.

“Do you want to wear your jeans or a dress?” Angela holds up both options, standing at the foot of Honey’s bed.

“I want to wear my PJ's,” Honey says with a distressed tone.

“You have to get up Honey, we're on a tight schedule.” Angela says, opting on the dress.

“Why? Nothing's open yet.” Honey whines.

“The early bird gets the worm. Plus I want to make sure we get to all the good stuff.” Angela shrugs, walking to Honey's side.

“But- angel,” Honey grips Angela's hand with desperation “it's so early, how 'bout one more hour of sleep?”

Angela squeezes Honey's hand “I'm not happy about the time either but I promised I'd wake you up. Plus you wanted to do everything last minute.”

“I didn't say that. When did I say that?” Honey furrows her brows.

“The other day.”

~~~

“Angie, don't you think it's strange how we haven't done anything fun this summer?” Honey sits on Angela's bed, "all we've done is work." She leans against the wall watching Angela test out her new makeup products.

"What about the Curtis gang? Haven't you hung out with them?" Angela asks, applying eyeliner.

"Hanging around testosterone doesn't count." Honey rolls her eyes.

"Alright so what do you have in mind?” Angela mutters, looking into a mirror.

"Well…I have been dying for a cherry coke." Honey says with a quirk of her brow.

“We could go downtown to all the good stores, blow all our money.” Angela adds with a smile. Honey sits up, her eyes lighting up.

"And have a sleepover."

"That sounds like just the right amount of summer craze we were missing out on." Angela says with a delighted sigh. "But we need to get up real early if we're gonna do it." She looks at Honey through the mirror.

"Angela, I'm incapable of waking up early."

Angela tuts. "Not to worry, I'll make sure you wake up for our last day of summer."

“You'd really do that for me?”

“It's more for me, but yes.”

~~~

“Angie, my spurts of energy don't last more than a day. You know this.”

“Suck it up, buttercup.” Angela shrugs while walking out of Honey’s room.

Honey stares at the dress Angela laid out for her at the end of the bed. It's not even noon yet and she feels drained. Honey stayed like that until she heard Angela's voice.

“You better be changing!” Angela shouts out from the living room.

“Don't worry, I am!” Honey shouts back.

“It doesn't sound like it!” Her voice drifts down the hall.

────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ────

Honey and Angela sit next to a window on the bus. The sun is higher in the sky, the streets are calm, no greasers in sight yet. There are people walking their dogs, or wearing their Sunday best.

"So what's on the to-do list, besides eating?" Honey questions looking out the window.

Angela pulls a paper out from her purse. "First on the list is the shopping center. If you're going to school tomorrow like you say-"

"Like my mom says." Honey corrects.

"Right, then you're gonna need new clothes."

Honey snaps her head to her friend. "What's wrong with my current clothes?"

"Nothing Honeybee...just you could use some new clothes." Angela glances at Honey's attire. “I can’t believe you chose those raggedy pants over the nice dress.”

Honey rolls her eyes. "Angela I'm not gonna spend money on new clothes, I already have clothes that are perfectly fine."

"They may be perfect for the California sun but not for Oklahoma." Angela points out. "It gets cold here Honey. Really cold, I'm surprised your dad didn't tell you."

"How could he? He's at work most of the time." She looks down at her hands, picking at a hangnail. "How cold does it get?"

"There's snow."

────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ────

"That looks great on you." Angela exclaims, holding a yellow camisole up to Honey.

"Are you sure we're not shopping for you, Angela?" Honey smiles bemused.

"If you don't like it you can say so." Angela rolls her eyes, handing the hanger over to Honey. Her smile never faltering.

"No, it's great, Angie."

Angela sighs. "But?"

"But I thought we were looking for winter clothes, this is all…" she gestures to the clothes. "Well, not winter."

"There's something called layering." Angela pulls out a bold-colored mini dress, instantly putting it back once she glances at the price tag. "Plus it's still August, it won't be cold until November."

"You had me worrying about snow that won't even arrive for another two months?" Honey says half-joking.

"Technically until January. Which gives you ample time to mentally prepare yourself."

A woman with a fancy up-do in a knee length skirt walks up to Honey and Angela. "Can I help you two ladies?" Her gaze lingers for a moment too long.

"No, we're alright" Honey answers politely. The woman smiles, stiff and professional.

"Are you sure? I could direct you somewhere better fitting your kind." Honey and Angela share a knowing glance.

"Are we not in the women section?" Angela asks rhetorically.

"Of course," her gaze sharpens, but her phony smile stays the same. "carry on." She walks off to a different rack, but her eyes stay alert.

"Come on, Honey. Let's go to the fitting rooms." She grabs a hold of Honey's hand leading her, swiftly grabbing the mini dress.

Honey goes into one of the fitting rooms with hesitant steps. Angela gives her the dress with haste. "Try this one first." The woman lingers in the background.

"Isn't this a little out of our budget-"

"Try it on." Angela says, impetuously.

"You remind me of my sister." Honey mutters under her breath, closing the curtain. She hangs the clothes on the wall. Honey unclothes, pulling the dress on with agility. She kicks away her clothes as she looks into the mirror. Her lip curls in vexation. She tugs the dress down, flattening the back trying to make it longer somehow.

"Come out, already!"

"No!" Honey answers back, disgruntled. Angela pulls the curtain open, unveiling Honey. "What is wrong with you?! What if I was naked?"

"Look at you, Honey! You look amazing." Angela directs Honey to the mirror by the shoulders. "This looks great, we have to get it."

"You're in over your head, did you not see the price tag?"

"Price doesn't matter when you look like that.” They both pause. Honey stares into the mirror really taking a look at herself. She tilts her head, her shoulders relax.

"No, I'll get the camisole and the other stuff. But this…is too much."

“Alright, fine. But you really do look good.”

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The two girls sit in Honey's room. The moon and the stars awake in the sky, the melodic voice of Etta James echoes from the record player. Honey sits at her vanity, putting hair rollers on while Angela tries on her new clothes.

"What do we think about this one?" She jumps out from behind the divider, striking a pose. Honey turns to her friend.

She furrows her brows. "Aren't those my capris?"

"Sure thing. Don't they look great?" Angela does a little spin.

"You look great in everything." Honey assures. She curses under her breath, dropping her arms from her hair. Without a word Angela takes over. Then a soft tapping is heard from the door. "Come in!" Honey's dad peeks his head through the door.

"I'm sorry I didn't know Angela was here." he stands awkwardly at the door.

"We're having a sleepover. Is that okay, pa?" Honey hesitates.

"Yeah, that's fine. As long as your mother knows you're here?" he glances at Angela.

"She does, sir." She flashes a smile at him. He nods his head.

"Uh…Do you need a ride to school tomorrow?"

"I think we're fine-"

"Yes! We would love a ride to school." Angela interrupts.

"Alright, well goodnight." He grabs the doorknob. "No se desvelen."

As soon as the door clicks, Angela lets out a suppressed squeal. "Isn't he so hot?"

Honey looks at her through the mirror with a disgusted look. "Ew what- Angela he's my dad."

"Angela Solis…that sounds really good, doesn't it?" she sighs dreamily.

"I have a nutcase for a friend." Honey scoffs. "Also, don't you have a boyfriend?"

Her smile instantly falls. "We are not talking to him." Her grip on the hair brush tightens, sectioning Honey's hair. She rolls the section of hair in a roller. She repeats the same process.

"Can you brush softer? It feels like you're about to rip my head off." Honey quips.

"Stop complaining." Angela says sharply.

"You really are like my sister. You have the same eyes too." Honey says with disdain.

I made Angela older than Curly for the sole reason that she gives middle child engery(ﾟзﾟ)

Masterlist. Playlist

Prev.

[sixt13s-baby]

Chapter 3

She's Not There

The radio's static filled music was a sound that Honey had grown to enjoy in the few weeks she's worked at Al's Music Shop. She's workerd there long enough to know to shelves but not feel settled yet. The bright sun bathes the shop with its warmth, the ceiling fan doing little to fight off the heat. Honey sits at the counter, resting her chin on her palm, flipping through a magazine. It's been a slow day, not many people have come by. Honey guesses it's because people are staving off the heat out in the community pools instead of a stuffy vinyl shop.

"Honey, could you put these in their place?" Al walks in with a heavy crate of vinyls, and drops it on the counter with a thud. "They've been in the back for so long, they're starting to catch dust." he scratches the back of his head looking at the crate with a frown.

A smile spreads on Honey's face."Of course, Al. And please next time you need to move a box, ask for help. You almost threw your back out the last time you did it." Honey takes the crate and lugs it over to the first aisle.

Al chuckles at her words. "I will. Thanks, Hon." He heads to the entrance grabbing his bowler hat. "I'm heading out for a second, do you think you could take over?"

Honey nods, briefly taking her eyes off of the vinyls. “I'll be back in thirty.” The chime of the store bell rung through the shop, followed shortly by a click. The store is left vacant, the radio serving as white noise. She fell into a rhythm of flipping through the sleeves and putting them in their respective place as she taps her foot.

The calm atmosphere is short lived when someone walks in with a ring of the bell. Something in the air shifted, Honey was unsure of the reason. Perhaps it could be the trail of smoke that followed, or the sound of his boots on the tile. But the peaceful atmosphere Honey had cultivated was starting to slip.

There wasn't anything particularly special about him; a simple white shirt, blue jeans, brown leather jacket. But there was something about him that filled the space differently, almost as if the radio static had gotten sharper. Honey hadn't realized she was staring until they made eye contact and the corner of his mouth lifted in an amused smirk. She averted her eyes fast.

“Johnny, Pony!” she greeted, with a bright smile too quickly.

“Hey Honey.” Ponyboy reciprocates the smile. They stand at the entrance. “We're not bothering you are we?” Johnny asks, his eyes wander around.

“Of course not" she smiled, attempting to sound casual. "Please come in. Look around.” They drifted into different corners. However the stranger kept an eye on her, so much so, Honey was made aware of her movements. Regardless, she pretended to continue filing, but her anxiety got the best of her.

On the other side of the store, Dally kept a watchful gaze on her. She hadn't even aknowledged him, not once. Not a word, look, or even a nod. She seemed to talk easy with Johnny and Ponyboy, but as soon as he tried making eye contact with her, she turns away.

Of course. Another soc who thinks she's too good to look at me.

"I swear everywhere I go, this soc-looking girl appears." Dally muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.

"She's not a soc." Johnny answers scanning the vinyls. Dally's head snaps to Johnny.

"How would you know?"

"I've known her for a while." He says in a matter of fact tone, furrowing his brows. Ponyboy walks up to them, intrigued by the conversation.

"You know who?" He glances curiously between Johnny and Dally.

"Honey."

"Ohh yeah." Ponyboy nods his head in agreement. Dally looks at both of them, his patience wearing thin with their short answers. "The whole gang knows her."

"Since when?"

Honey's voice breaks through. "By the way, you guys can change the radio station if you get tired of the music."

"Thanks, Honey!" Ponyboy answers with a smile.

"I didn't know we needed permission." Dally says quietly, though not quiet enough. A crease forms on Honey's brows but she doesn't say anything further, deciding to instead brush off his words. Each one of the boys drift into their own corner of the shop. Honey falls back into the rhythm of filing.

She moves on to the next aisle and works her way down. But she notices the guy with the brown leather jacket stands in the way of the vinyls. She lightly taps on his shoulder causing him to quickly turn to her. "Excuse me, I need to get to The Doors."

"What?"

Honey lifts the vinyl in her hand. "The Doors? You're in front of them." A bemused smile takes place on her lips watching the realization hit.

"Well there's a toll you gotta pay."

"I'm just trying to get through." She answers simply. Dally holds his hands up in fake surrender and moves out the way. She moves the box with her and continues filing. Dally glances back at Ponyboy an Johnny, thinking back to their words.

"You don't sound like you're from around."

"I'm not"

Dally's jaw tightens, waiting for her to add on. But he's met with silence. "Where are you from?"

Honey briefly glances at him. "California."

"How much more do you have left?" Al stands at the doorway behind the counter, holding the curtain open. He glances between Honey and Dally with a quirked brow.

"Just a couple of more." Honey pats the crate. Al nods in approval.

"Alright, well you just make sure to take a break. I don't want to get sued for overworking my employees." he lets out a hearty chuckle. Honey smiles and shakes her head.

"Don't you mean 'employee'?" She picks up the crate, taking it over to the counter. "i'm the only person who works here."

"Is that sass I hear, little missy?" he points an accusatory finger at her. "I want to here you talk like that when I fire you" Honey walks behind the counter patting Al.

"Oh Al you could never fire me. You enjoy my company too much."

"I enjoy that you do all the boring work for me." Al corrects, moving to the side to let her through.

"See? You can't get rid of me. I'm a very valuable asset to you store" they both laugh in unison as Honey walks to the back. Al's laugh dies down and turns to the boys.

"You boys alright?"

"Yes, sir" Ponyboy answers.

"If you need to be rung up, just say the word." Al settles onto the stool decluttering the counter.

Dally stares at the doorway long after Honey disappears.

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[dallaswinstons]

@hintonchallenge: dallas winston appreciation week

"And now he was a dead juvenile delinquent and there wouldn't be any editorials in his favor."

[sixt13s-baby]

Happy Birthday King💋🙏

[r0seb100d]

Happy birthday to my fav forever

[sixt13s-baby]

Chapter 2

Welcome to My World

“Honey!” Her dad breaks the morning quiet as he bursts into her room. She jolts awake, burying her face into her pillow. She extends her arm searching for the clock aimlessly on the nightstand. She lifts her head, squinting her eyes at the clock

“It's seven in the morning….?” She says groggily. She rolls on her back to glare at her dad “Pa! It's seven in the morning.” She states, sitting up.

“You're staying in Tulsa with me for the summer,” he reminds her, causing her pout. “And I don't want you staying inside, alone while I go to work.”

“I won't be alone.” Honey mutters “I-have that cat I always used to feed.”

“I've marked some options for you in the newspaper. I want you to pick one.” He starts making his way out.

“And if I don't like any of them?” She calls as he leaves.

“Then you can come and work at the autoshop.” He says from down the hall. She slouches, a pout prominent on her face. She brushes her hair back. Finding a job will only make the indefinite….definite

Honey drags herself out of bed, she shuffles her feet to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The smell of fresh coffee and her dad's aftershave waft over her.

He takes a sip from his mug. “I'm heading to work, okay?” He grabs his cap and keys. “I'll be back later.” Honey waves her hand in dismissal as she sits down with her dad's mug in hand beginning her perusal of the classifieds. He kisses the top of her head. “Pórtate bien.” Honey hums in response.

Honey's eyes skim over the red circles scribbled onto the newspaper. “Help Wanted at Al's Music Shop. In need for someone to organize vinyls.” She quirks a brow in interest. She glances back down, “Open from nine am to five pm.” Honey checks the clock on the wall, reading 7:50.

By 9:40 she headed out the door and was on her way to Al's Music Shop. The hot sun pressed down causing sweat to form on her forehead.

The warm air sweeps her dress allowing it to brush against her knees. She pats her forehead dry of sweat. Then she hears a sharp whistle cut through the air.

“Hey! Hon!” furrowing her brows, she turns to whoever called her. Angela Shepard leans out of the passenger side of Tim's car. Honey's face instantly breaks out into a smile at seeing the familiar face of her friend.

She walks up to Angela's window. “Hey Angie.” She notices Angela's waitress uniform but doesn't point it out.

“Where you headed?” Angela asks Honey.

“I'm on my way to Al's Music Shop. My dad wants me to find a job while I stay in Tulsa.”

“Tim is taking me to the Dingo, I'm sure he could take you there-”

“I'm not a taxi service Angela.” Tim's gruff voice interrupts.

“Don't be like that, Tim.” Angela rolls her eyes. “Hop in, Honey.” She climbs into the backseat with a quiet thanks, tucking her hair behind her ear. The car falls silent, the radio softly humming a tune. We soon arrive at the Dingo.

“Bye, Honey.” Angela grabs her bag and opens the door.

“Be nice,” Angela warns, glancing back at her brother. As soon as she disappears into the Dingo, Tim pulls away from the curb. Honey fidgets with her necklace.

“You've changed.” Tim's voice breaks through the silence. He glances at her through the rear-view mirror.

Honey raises her brows, not expecting Tim to make small talk. “Really?”

Tim grins. “Yeah, you used to look like a girl scout.”

“What do I look like now?” Honey half teases while bracing herself.

Tim pauses for a second glancing at her through the mirror, the corner of his lip twitches. “Like a grown-up Girl Scout.” Honey laughs lightly.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Take it how'd you like.” he shrugs.

They soon arrive in front of the shop. Honey grabs her bag, stepping out into the blinding sun. She walks on over to Tim's window.

“If I get this job, remind me to pay you back.” Honey jokes, a smile tugging at her lip.

A smirk appears on Tim's face. “I could think of a few ways you could repay me.” his hand worms around her waist.

“Quit playing.” Honey slaps his hand a way with a laugh. “Thanks for the ride, Tim!”

She walks into the shop with a ring of the bell, unaware of the pair of eyes watching the scene unfold.

The door closes behind her with a soft chime. The fan cools her from the oven-like heat outside. There's a subtle smell of vinyl and lemon cleaner. Honey takes in the store, rows of dusted vinyls, posters curling at the edges. A radio sat on the counter, playing the familiar voice of Brenton Wood.

“I'll be with you in one second!” a voice calls from the back.

Honey makes her way towards the shelves, brushing her finger over the album covers. She spots various vinyls she recognizes. Her lips turn into a smile.

“I could get used to this,” she murmurs to herself.

A man with a button-up shirt and suspenders appears behind the counter, wiping his hands off. “What can I help you with, miss?”

“I read your ad in the classifieds.” Honey pulls out the page with a red circle on it. “You need someone to organize your vinyls.”

He gives her a once-over as a grin appears on his face.“You any good at alphabetizing, miss…?”

“Honey, sir.” she smiles with her eyes.

“Is that your real name? Or just something you go by?” he chuckles.

“You'll have to stick around if you want to find out, sir.” she laughs, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He lets out a hearty laugh. “You're hired, Honey!” he hands her a clipboard. “Welcome to Al’s.”

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[sixt13s-baby]

Chapter 1

Stranger In Town

Dallas isn't sure where she's from or who she is. He claimed not to care, at least that's what he told himself. That was before she started appearing everywhere he went.

First time he saw her was in mid July, the sun was hot, the kind that burned the skin, the perfect weather for a drink. She was getting out of Tim Shepard's car, her exposed skin catching a glint of the sun perfectly. She looked real nice, nothing like the other girls Tim ran with. If anything she looked like she belonged to the west side with the socs.

She stood by Tim's window saying something Dallas couldn't make out. Tim's hand wandered to her waist before she slapped his hand away with a laugh. “Thanks for the ride Tim!” she waved, making her way into Al's Music Shop. As the door closed behind her, Tim sped off.

The second time was a pure coincidence. Dallas was at the autoshop for blowing one of the tires on Buck's car. She waltzed in with a bag from the Dingo, as if she owned the joint. She greeted all the present mechanics with a “Hello everybody!” The oil covered mechanics reciprocated the greeting, as she walked to the back. With furrowed brows and a puff of smoke, he watched her disappear behind the curtain.

It irked Dallas the third time he saw her. She was starting to get undee his skin. She and Two-bit had been standing there chatting with each other. It's not unusual for Two-bit to have a drink in his hand, no. What was unusual, was for the drink to be something non-alcoholic. He was standing outside a store drinking a coke with some girl. Dallas could almost laugh at the scene if it weren't for his growing suspicion of this girl.

By the fourth time, he wasn't sure what to think. She was right across from the Curtis’s home. She stood, chatting with Darry with groceries in her arms. They were both smiling, until they weren't. Darry takes one of the bags and follows her up the steps into her house.

Later that day, Dallas was walking to the lot, hoping to find Johnny. His hands were shoved in his pockets, a prominent crease between his brows, and smoke curling around him from the cigarette in his mouth. He had become frustrated with this girl. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why the hell has she infiltrated every single part of Dallas's life?

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The first official chapter of my new fanfic Chrysanthemum! I know this was short but I hope you enjoyed it. I will try to update semi-regularly

xoxo

-bibi౨ৎ

[r0seb100d]

Another day of being extremely sensitive and feeling every single thing way too deeply (average infp)