#dally winston

[gnomes-wizard]

Dally holding his fetus 🩸

(cw: blood... I guess...?)

#yourbodyyourchoice #iloveabortion #abortionishealthcare #makeabortionsafe

PRO-LIFE/ANTI-ABORTION DNI!!!

[formaldehydefangz]

"suddenly it's december

and you're not 17 anymore.

and you haven't been 17 for a very long time."

(suddenly it's december :: margaux paul :: inspired by a dps post i saw lmao, i thought it fit dally really well.)

[thegetou]

Ego Renegade Boy by Flavor Foley but it’s about trans fem Darry and trans masc Dally

yeah

[simpylimpy]

AU but Dally's bio parents are Ginny and Jack but he gets taken away from them

[cremecaramelsblog]

Made a blingee of Dally Winston <3

[cry1ng-at-m1dnight]

"Aroace (Lithromantic) Dallas Winston,” I say into the mic. The crowd boos.

I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room. "He's right," they say. I look for the owner of the voice. There in the 2nd row stands: Dallas Winston

[auroraswords]

Dally Winston x Honeybee Curtis!Reader (part 3), in wich...

Your ex-boyfriend gets a little handsy after cornering you on the street with his buddies and Dallas is not happy about it. at all.

wc: 2k

warnings: canon typical violence. sexist men and their sexist behaviour. use of a knife to threaten someone. language. crying. reader feeling unsafe. intentional lower case. no use of y/n. reader is called Honeybee cause i thought it was cute that she'd have an unusuall name like her younger brothers. overused romantic tropes. this is part 3 off my last Dally x Honeybee posts, but i think it can be read as a one shot? maybe?

read more here: part 1, part 2

you hadn't see Dally for days. neither had your siblings apparently, since Darry didn’t yell or drill you with questions about your whereabouts even once. Dally either kept his mouth shut or he’d been avoiding your big brother as much as he’d been avoiding you.

it was probably for the better, though. you weren’t exactly proud of some of the things that went through your head during that weekend. Dally’s jacket was still lying on the armchair in the corner of your room. the dark, well-worn leather a complete contrast against the soft colors and patterns of your room. a stark reminder of how different you two were. still, it had been taking a little too much effort not to try it on in front of the mirror just to see how it’d look.

you had been trying to stay out of your room and out of your own head, so you set on to walk to the DX and take Soda and Steve some of the cookies you’d spent the morning baking. your brother hadn’t been having a great week and your mother’s recipe for chocolate chip cookies might’ve been exactly what he needed. the plan was to catch the end of the boys’ shift and walk back home with them. and it was a great plan, until it wasn’t.

you were halfway across town when you spotted Paul and his buddies walking down the street. hoping he hadn’t seen you, you crossed the street as soon as you could. they followed right after.

“Bee, hey! just the gal I was looking for. how you been?” he greeted pulling you for a stiff hug. you went by Honey or Honeybee to everyone else but Paul. the boy had always opted to call you Bee, trying to pass you on to his parents as a Beatrice. a proper name as he put it.

“just peachy, Paul. you?” you answered politely, able to feel his friends blocking the road behind you.

“i’m alright. you know, i’ve been meaning to tell you. i’m sorry about the way i ended things. maybe i was a bit harsh… hasty. but there’s no reason why we can’t be friends, right bumblebee?”

the term landed with a sour taste. he was making fun of you. it might've sounded like he was being nice, calling you sweet things. but you knew the difference by now. after two decades of going around with a name like your's you knew when people were having fun at your expense.

“don’t call me that.” you replied sternly almost involuntarely.

“why the hell not? it’s a nice term of endearment. i mean, it's basically a nickname for you, if you think about it.” he shot back, clearly amused by your unusual outburst.

“just don't. have a nice day.” you offered politly as you tried to push by him, but the boy extended his arm leaning against the wall and blocking your way.

“oh, c’mon, don’t be like that.” he pleaded, that sickening smirk still glued to his face.

“don’t be all sweet on me now, Paul. you fucked up, you hurt my feelings.” you responded in a sudden burst of confidence, raising your voice slightly. it was totally out of character for you to speak to him like that, but he was starting to scare you. you never cursed around your Soc friends either.

“wow, harsh words for a good Soc girl.” one of his friends behind you muttered sarcastically.

“god, how you could ever have tricked me into believing you could be anything but a dirty greaser is beyond me.” Paul spat still smirking, still lacing his words with false niceties as if he wasn’t choosing them with precision just to hurt you.

and it did hurt you. because you had never intended to trick anyone, because you hated the Greaser/Soc divide, and most of all because you hated that the box they wanted to put you and your family in was made to diminish you.

you gripped the basket harder, trying to use the pain as a stopper for the tears that started to sting in your eyes.

“c’mon, you know he could never take a Honeybee Curtis to his parents.” his friend started again.

“doesn’t mean he can’t take Honeybee Curtis for a sweet, sweet ride.” the other one retorted. they laughed while the tightness in your throat grew.

you didn’t want to cry. god, you couldn’t cry it would only make it a hundred times worse. you tried to remember what your brothers always told you. to keep your head high, to take the higher road. that the Socs could only intimated them if they let them. they only win if we let ourselves be upset, Darry had said. you refused to give these boys that.

“exactly, nobody’s saying we can’t still have some fun.” Paul agreed, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to his chest. his hot breath whispering into your ear. “i was really looking forward to it.”

you slapped him hard in the cheek the same second, causing him to let go of you. “watch it.” You muttered through greeted teeth. if he was going to be lewd and cruel then you were done being polite too.

you could hear his friends calling you names under their breath from behind you, and behind Paul’s cool demeanor you could see the fire you’d ignited in his eyes. 

“you’re acting crazy, sugar, calm down.” he pleaded in a way that felt more like an warning than a plea.

“don’t call me that.” She doubled down. “you don’t get to be sweet. call me by my goddamn name since you’re so obsessed with it.”

“you don’t tell me what to do.” your ex-boyfriend muttered through greeted teeth. the face pleasantries starting to crumble. he reached forward again, this time with more force and pulled you by the waist again. “can't call you bumblebee, can't call you sugar. what’s your boyfriend supposed to call you then?”

Dally had been at the convenience store across the street preparing to steal some dinner when he spotted you crossing the road. not even two seconds later he watched as the guy from the drive-in and two other Socs passed by the store window and followed you. he didn’t mind them much at first. so what? you could go back to that jerk if that’s what you wanted. he didn’t care.  

so, the greaser kept his routine up, trying to knick a sandwich and a soda without being caught. he kept an eye on you anyway. one of the times he looked, you didn’t seem too comfortable. he debated going over.

you wouldn’t need to talk; he could simply walk over and scare the guys away. no need to make things weird. or maybe he was reading too much into it. you’d told him to mind his own business. yet when he looked again, he caught the moment Paul grabbed your and you slapped him across the face. that was the final straw.

Dally crossed the street in large quick steps. walking up to Paul from behind. the Soc had his hands all over you again. what’s your boyfriend supposed to call you then? he heard Paul ask in a tone he wasn’t about to let slide. he pulled him away by the back of his collar with enough force that Paul stumbled back onto the ground.

““honey” usually works just fine.” he spat at the guy without so much as glancing down at him, keeping is eyes on you searching for any signs that you might be hurt. he didn’t miss the way your hands were shaking. nor the slight shade of pink that suddenly covered your cheeks.

he droped his guard down for a split second. the implications of what he'd just blurted out without thinking catching up to him.

Paul took the oportunity to spring up from the ground and lunge at Dally and push him against the wall, hard. Dally took two punches to the face before he was able to knee Paul on the side and push him off of him. he punched the Soc back, but was quickly overpowered by the two other guys who started beating him like it was a fair fight and not 3 vs 1. Dally managed to hit a few punches and kicks, before he was back pressed against the wall.

he never backed down though. taking it like he was invensible. smirking in their faces, spiting blood and mouthing off at them in between gasps. no matter how much you screamed at them to stop. please, just stop. they wouldn't. they were going to kill him.

Dallas Winston was going to get beaten to death over you and your stupid need to be accepted. he was going to bleed out on that street for nothing. you tried to ask for help, but people kept passing by and looking the other way.

you stopped hearing yourself scream, you could only feel the pain it was starting to scratch at your throat everytime you did it. you had to do something. it couldn't be like this. no, no, no, no. not now, not here. god, please not him.

“STOP!” you yeled once again, in a moment of panic, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a switch blade. you pulled the guy closer to you back and pointed it at him and the others. positioning yourself between them and Dally.

you could hear him behind you, leaning against the wall, catching his ragged breath and groaning. it smelled of blood. it was all your fault. your hands started shaking again despite your wishes.

“you’re really gonna use that?” Paul asked condescendingly, wipping Dally's blood off on his jeans. a defiant smirk pulling at his face.

“she won’t have to.” Dally breathed out rough and low from behind you. voice like gravel. using all his strength and stubbornness to pull himself off the wall and move closer, looming over your body. so close you could feel his chest brush against your back. without breaking eye contact with the Socs, he grabbed your hand slowly and let the blade transfer to his already bloodied one. “c’mon, Hon. we’re leavin'.”

they could all hear the strain in his voice, but none of the Socs questioned for a moment if Dallas Winston was capable of using that blade or not. he could and he would. so, they didn’t do anything, only stared daggers into the both of you.

Dally put his arm around you, mostly for support. partially because he wanted to make Paul foam at the mouth as much as he could. partially because something in his blurry mind told him he needed you close.

he could feel your body shaking under him. “don’t cry. wait till they cain’t see us.” he hissed.

you just nodded, and as you turned the first corner Dally let go of you to lean back against the wall. he hurt all over. he could feel his face swelling and his ribs on his right side were killing him.

“you alright, Honeybee?” he asked in between groans. you were crying. just standing there looking at him and crying. Dally thought the image was like a weird, out of place painting. an angel all in white and baby blue ruffles with her face stained with tears and blood on her shoulder where he’d leaned against you.

“i’m fine, it’s just nerves. can’t control it.” you mumbled, trying to calm your breathing by focusing on cleaning your face without rubbing mascara everywhere. it still smudged a bit. Dally thought it added to the painting.

“you was really gonna use this?” he asked with a smirk looking down at the switchblade in his hand and then back at you.

“what? no!” you exclaim, completely snapping out of the nervous state you were in. the idea of you stabbing your ex-boyfriend was so impossibly idiotic you couldn’t believe he was even asking. “were you?”

“depends.” he breathed out. the bruises growing in his ribs clearly still making it hard to breath and speak.

“on?” you questioned.

“if they came at you.” Dally offered back curtly, pushing off the wall.

oh.

he signaled for you to walk with him with a nod and set his route to the Curtis home. you moved to wrap your arm around him for support, even though you knew he was planning to try and tough it out all the way there.

he went rigid for only half a second at your light touch againts his torso before putting his arm back around yout shoulders. jezz, had you always smelled this nice? he'd never noticed before.

“where’d you get my blade anyway, been lookin' for it everywhere.” he asked, trying to break the ice after a while of walking in silence. all previous notions of not talking to you anymore thrown out the window at this point.

“it was in your coat pocket” you mumbled, looking away.

that earned an amused and incredulous scoff from the boy. “and you just been carrying it around?”

you don’t answer, which Dally knows means you did. strangely, the idea doesn’t appall him. he likes that you’ve been carrying something of his. he’s always had a soft spot for that.

his girl using his bracelet, necklace, ring. he’d lost count of how many he’d handed out over the years. sometimes he got them thrown back at him, sometimes they’d keep it out of spite. it did something to him that his girl had something to remember him by, the fact that other people knew it was his was a bonus he welcomed too.

and even though he knew perfectly well that you weren't one of his girls, it still felt pretty good.

“don’t say I never gave you anything, then.” he huffed with a smirk.

taglist: @httpslivz

[formaldehydefangz]

this but it's sodapop confronting dally about loving johnny

"you think you got everybody fooled, don't you? well not me, honey. i've known you too long and regrettably, too well. and no matter how hard you try to deny it, i can tell you care as much about him as he cares about you. admit that you love him. and i know that you do. despite all your efforts to never let another heart touch yours. and that's assuming, of course, you have one. that little, persistent kid has somehow gotten in under the wire. and that's what's happened, huh? admit the truth.

you love him, don't you?"

(queer as folk, season 2 epsiode 6)

(currently tryna make an animatic about it cause DAMN.)