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2knightt · 3 months

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5 things dallas winston hated about you.

—even when you were on his last goddamn nerve, you were still everything to him. is he still everything to you? after all he’s put you through?

-> in no way is this me changing my style nor should this be taken seriously…i’m just bored. and sad. and bored. and i miss my boyfriend. posted on queue!! i’m probably either studying, working on asks + event, or sleeping. either one.

(I.your snarky remarks.)

“did nobody ever teach you how to properly play uno of all games?”

you asked, a chuckle in your voice as you held your one card in hand. dallas glared at you from across your table, holding 12 cards. this was the 5th game you two played. he was never one to accept defeat easily.

“this game is just fuckin’ stupid. n’ you’re a dirty lil’ cheater.” he grumbled, staring down at his all red cards, eyes shifting back to the green 3 that you had placed down. dallas wanted to say more not-so-nice words, but knowing you fully, you’d say something even worse back. he hated that about you. you always said that it was apart of your charm, he always disagreed.

“why would i ever need to cheat when you can’t seem to count?” you snapped back, brows furrowed. you referenced the fact that dallas tried to pick up only 4 when he had to pick up 6, thinking he was slick.

dallas just huffed, picking up another card from the pile before mumbling a small, ‘go.’ there was a tug at the corners of your mouth, causing you to grin a little too hard as you placed down the winning card. for the 5th time in a row. dallas threw his cards down, clicking his tongue in annoyance. he leaned back into the chair, his head turned away from you as his arms hung off the chair.

“stop bein’ a baby and help me clean this up.”

“no. it’s your house.”

“and you’re the one who’s bumming around in it. clean up with me before i let you walk those streets. again.”

(II.how important your looks were to you.)

you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers running through your hair as you starred at yourself in the window of a convenience store.

“are you serious, y/n?” he asked, pockets in hand. he stopped walking when you did. he said it was so nobody hit on you. in reality, he liked it better when he had his eyes on you 24/7. he likes knowing you were safe. even for a second.

“yes, dallas. i am.” you replied with an eye roll. you grabbed your pink lip gloss, re-applying it for the 4th time today. sure, you were willing to admit it slowed you down—your focus on your looks. but were you gonna change? no! if someone doesn’t like it, who cares?

once you were done, you continued walking, leaving dallas to rush to catch up. he walked beside you after speed walking behind you for a few seconds. your lips shined under the hot tulsa sun, eyes glowing along with them. dally couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist.

he grew more and more aware of the men around. he held you closer, even when they paid no mind to neither you or him. he felt almost threatened for a moment.

“are you even listening?”

you chimed in, breaking his train of thought. dallas nodded, head empty. he didn’t hear a single thing you said. was he going to admit it? no. he didn’t want these other guys to know about how terrible of a boyfriend he was.

you just hummed, walking to your house in silence. any insults, compliments, comments, or cries would fall to deaf ears as of now.

(III.how you were blindly loyal.)

“i cannot believe you right now.”

“i jus’ said she was pretty. god forbid.”

he muttered as he entered your car, sitting in the passenger seat. dallas knew it’d be a terrible idea to try and make you jealous. boundaries, you’d shout. boundaries!

“i’ve told you how many times on how uncomfortable that makes me.”

“m’sorry, doll. i…i know. it was the alcohol.”

dallas lied right through his teeth. in all honesty—he’d been hoping it’d make you want to show him off. he was stupid for ever thinking you’d so something like that.

your silence scared him. you usually would’ve spat something back at him without a single thought. a sigh left your lips as you started the car, finally speaking up.

“i know.”

you muttered quietly. goddamn, maybe loyalty was gonna be the death of you. he didn’t mind much, though. at least you knew where home was. with him…right? right, y/n? he wanted to ask over and over again. dallas wanted the reassurance. he needed the support.

for what? he didn’t know. he just wanted to make sure you still felt the same way he does.

(IV.the way you fought.)

“she got you good, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, dal.”

you muttered, washing your bloodied and bruised hands under the faucet. you stood there, spacing out, letting the water run off your hands. dallas tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of it.

he handed you a clean shirt, a couple of bandaids in the other. you ushered him out of your bathroom, closing the door to put the clean shirt on. ‘she got you good.’ what does that even mean? was there seriously no, ‘are you okay?’ you wondered to yourself as you opened the door.

dallas sat you down on the toilet, brushing the fresh blood that slowly streamed down your cheeks with his thumb as he placed bandaids all over your face. he kissed every single one after doing so.

he wanted to make sure you still knew he likes you. that dallas winston liked you a whole lot.

“you’ll be alright, doll.” he comforted, patting your head. he thought back to your several other fights. you fought strategically and with honour. something he’d never do. but, recently, you’d been fighting just for the fun of it.

when you fought before—he felt a little angry. he didn’t like seeing you fight, but he didn’t like knowing you were good at it. knowing you were at the same level as he was at something he took pride in hurt him. dallas was frustrated at you and himself.

maybe his bad habits were rubbing off on you. a way to remember him, as dallas thought about it. he said he’d talk to you later about it. he never did.

(V.how quickly you were able to move on. faster than he ever could.)

you realized you needed better. dallas didn’t treat you like he used to. why? you didn’t know. you tried to be the best girlfriend he’d ever have, so why did he have to ruin it? was it your fault?

you kept on asking yourself questions like this when the reality of it all sunk in. that same day, you left dallas winston.

he felt his world crumble before him. this whole, self-sabotaging thing that pony warned him about was catching up to him. dallas felt hatred for you. well, at least he wanted to. he wanted to feel angry. hatred for you.

he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. even when he watched you move onto another guy. from afar, he’d see you giggle and flirt with him. like how you used to do with him.

even when you’re with someone else, you’re still everything ti dallas. would you ever forgive him if he said sorry? would sorry even fix the way he treated you?

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston x reader #this whole thing is just dallas being toxic #and just like disliking how reader is catching on #bibically accurate dallas winston technically #emotionally mature reader methinks #would modern day dallas listen to alpha male podcasts #this fic is technically me shitposting #i hate this so much #but idgaf #me coded dallas winston #queue posting my love #sleeping rn #was so not proofread #ifnore any mostakes

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jtl-fics · 1 year

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Fluent Freshman - Part 19

There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.

1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.

He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).

So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.

So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.

He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.

He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.

Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.

He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.

Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.

(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)

This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.

2. Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.

After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)

But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.

For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.

This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.

Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).

FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.

Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.

He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.

Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.

Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.

Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.

He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.

Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.

FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.

FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.

After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)

He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.

FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?

The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-

The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.

He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.

He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.

He is ULTRA stealth.

Romero’s gaze glides over him.

Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).

His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)

His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.

Well fuck.

He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).

He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.

He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.

He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.

He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.

He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.

He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.

He pretends to be on a phone call.

“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.

He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).

He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.

He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“

“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.

“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.

“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.

“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.

FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’

Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.

“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.

HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.

“I’d like that.” He says.

He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.

‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’

The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.

“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.

The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.

There really are some kind people in the world.

“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.

The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.

“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.

He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.

He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.

His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…

He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.

(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)

He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.

He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.

Jackson Plank.

FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.

Okay now what genius?

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Lillyndra it worked this time!!!

#Fluent Freshman AU #Is it a songfic chapter if it's only 3 lines? Experts aren't sure #Did I listen to lose yourself a lot while writing this chapter? Perhaps #If Nora mentioned something about Jackson or Romero in her extras I did not read it #Also gonna be honest here and state that I forgot the likely year that AFTG happened in and this is happening in 2010 #So I guess this AU also involves a slight time shift #Andrew and Neil may have gotten lost in one another's eyes a bit down in the speakeasy #Really they're just being polite to get all of their PDA out of the way while FF is taking what might be the piss of a lifetime.#(They have no idea how accurate that might be)#Andrew is all set to kiss one of his favorite of Neil's freckles (yes he has ordered them from favorite to lesser favorite)#Then his phone goes off #He looks and it's Roland #Andrew: WTF is Roland trying to call me?#Nicky is busy being the Dancing Queen. If someone plays ABBA he will absolutely scream rn #I had considered a whole sequence of FF trying to get Nicky and Aaron to the safety of the backroom in Eden's #And Nicky just keeps reappearing on the dancefloor while FF is looking for Aaron #I was gonna use that simpsons meme where Moe throws out Barney and then Barney is just right back in the bar #But it got a little too crazy #But just know in this AU Nicky is canonically an excellent escape artist #Maybe Erik went through a bit of a magician phase and Nicky was DELIGHTED to be asked to be his assistant #Maybe that's how they got together #The inherent ROMANCE of magician and assistant #I don't remember if they ever really said in the books or nora's content #If I'm rambling because I forgot to shut off my alarm (Memorial Day 4-day weekend baby)#The fate of FF's phone may have been caused by some slight anger towards my own #RIP FF's Wymack phone (July 2010 - November 2010)#AFTG #AFTG AU #Andreil #FF - Pt.19

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