replying to your post, I like pony angst if you'd do that!!
I REALLYYYY WANTED TO THIS RIGHT
but I didn’t like what I was writing so it’s hella short 😭😭
I’ll most likely expand on it in the future
Ty for this idea it was fun I love angst 😼
(Request are still open! I still need ideas…send an ask if you want to request!)
Tw: ED, mention of throwing up
Eating Hurts.
Ponyboy used to a lot. Anyone could tell you that. He’d say he would eat like a horse. Whether because of a joke of having “pony” in his name or it’s basically how he ate, he’d tell you that.
But not anymore.
Not since Johnny Cade, his best friend died.
Not since Windrixville.
Not since Dallas Winston died.
Not since all of that.
He couldn’t help it, eating hurt him. Everything tasted bland and wrong, it tasted like baloney. And baloney reminded him of his days in Windrixville with Johnny, where he only ate baloney sandwiches. And Windrixville reminded him of Johnny, which reminded him of Johnny’s last and final words of his life. They were directed to him.
Stay gold Ponyboy, stay gold. Those worlds swirled around Ponyboy's mind and choked his throat, wrapped around him like a grass stain to pants.
Ponyboy couldn’t live right with Johnny, nor with the thought that he might’ve killed him and Dally.
The thought banged his head like ruthlessly banging on a door. If he didn’t say he would go to the drive-in with Dally and said Johnny would come along too, both of them might’ve still been alive. If he didn’t go to the Drive-in, he wouldn’t have talked to Cherry Valance. If he didn’t talk to Cherry Valance he wouldn’t have set a target on him and Johnny’s head from Bob and Randy. If that didn’t happen, maybe even if he ran away again from Darry hitting him they might’ve not have been jumped by those Socs. And then, Bob wouldn’t have to die. And then, neither Dally nor Johnny would have died.
If it wasn’t for him, his best friend could’ve been alive.
It was all his fault. And he couldn’t have gone eating like should with all that choked around him and all that guilt. The thoughts seeped into what he ate, making him have to think about it every time he ate with his brothers, making it taste like baloney.
When Darry and Sodapop finally convinced him to eat, he’d most likely throw it back up later that day. He wouldn’t tell them though, he didn’t want them to worry.
Until, well, Sodapop caught him throwing it back up late at night.
After that they took him to a doctor, he got pills to maybe lower the chance of it happening. He never takes it though, he knows he should, but it feels wrong to. Ponyboy himself thinks he should suffer for killing two people.
Maybe he just won’t get better.
Maybe he doesn’t want to.
Maybe eating just hurts.
