if you see me liking contradicting headcanons for the same character just know it's because I do not give a fuck and I have an active imagination #hewouldsaythat
i think stories without a romantic subplot are so important actually because i didn’t even realize how much internalized aphobia i had rolling around in there until i saw ryland grace be genuinely happy and fulfilled by platonic relationships
I love Two-Bit’s character detail of never helping his mom around the house. Fans have a tendency to believe that characters like Two-Bit, who are likeable and who aren’t bad people beneath their more unsavoury behavior, will always do the right thing in the end. But he doesn’t. Surely when push comes to shove he’ll be a good son. But he isn’t. His single mother works round the clock, and he never helps her with housework or gets a job. And it’s not because he’s a “bad person” or doesn’t love his mother. It’s because he’s a young man in a patriarchal society, and on top of that he’s a juvenile delinquent, and he’s a person who doesn’t necessarily do the right thing if it requires effort.
The way he’s ready to drive to Texas to find Pony and Johnny but he won’t clean up a mess at home is a painfully realistic piece of character nuance and social commentary.
notes: kind of rushed ending. probably bad (i wrote this instead of sleeping).
summary: ponyboy and johnny share a bed
happy (late) birthday, ponyboy!! <3
Ponyboy had just managed to fall asleep when the bedroom door opening causes him to stir.
He figures it’s Soda, since him and Darry always stays up later than Pony does. Soda usually doesn’t come to bed until a few hours after Ponyboy, climbing in beside him and almost immediately seeking out the younger boys warmth.
Ponyboy doesn’t bother opening his eyes, just settles deeper into the mattress, cheek pressed against the cool material of his pillowcase. Usually if he’s still awake he and Soda will talk some, but right now he just wants to sleep.
He hears the sound of clothes rustling then a cold rush of air hits his back when the blankets are pulled up. He burrows his face against his pillow, making a quiet grumbling noise at the temperature change.
“Hurry up, Soda. It’s cold,” he complains. If he weren’t so tired he would do something about it, but he can barely keep his eyes open.
Pony hears a quiet snicker as something warm presses against his back, an arm sliding around his waist. “I ain’t Soda,” Johnny says softly.
Ponyboy stills, cheeks warming, a small smile growing on his lips. He slowly opens his eyes, turning slightly to look at Johnny over his shoulder; which is probably a bad idea. His eyes are half-lidded with sleep and his hair is messy. Ponyboy finds himself wanting to run his fingers through it.
“Why’re you here? I thought you went home,” Ponyboy asks.
“Was gonna. But I like it better here with you,” Johnny responds, his eyes meeting Ponyboys.
Ponyboy doesn’t know what to say to that, so he lays back down. Johnny closes his eyes, resting his forehead against the back of Ponyboy’s neck, his chest against Pony’s back.
Pony can feel Johnny’s warm breath against his skin, and he resists shivering at the sensation.
If Pony was tired then, he’s exhausted now. Johnny’s weight against him makes him more comfortable than he wants to admit and he feels his eyes sliding closed again.
“Hey, Pony?” Johnny asks quietly.
“Hm?” Ponyboy mumbles in response.
“This okay?”
Ponyboy is too tired to even fully understand what he’s asking. Possibly the cuddling is what he means.
“Yeah,” Ponyboy answers without thinking too hard. “You’re warm.”
Johnny smiles, pulling Ponyboy closer. He goes to rest his arm under Pony’s head, waiting a few seconds until the latter sits up a bit before doing so. Johnny’s fingers tangle in Pony’s hair, absentmindedly playing with the strands.
Ponyboy shifts slightly, leaning back into Johnny before allowing himself to fully fall asleep in the comfort of Johnny’s arms.
˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚
“Ain’t that cute.”
“Shut up, Soda,” Ponyboy murmurs, burrowing his face back against Johnny’s chest.
“Hey, I was bein’ nice,” Soda answers with a laugh.
“And I’m sleeping.” But really he isn’t. Not anymore. He’s still tired but figures he won’t be getting back to sleep soon so instead he sits up, rubbing his eyes.
His gaze finds Soda, who’s leaning against the doorway in his work uniform with his arms crossed. He has a smile on his lips and a teasing look on his face.
“What’s that look for?” Ponyboy inquires, eyeing Soda.
When Soda gestures to Ponyboy’s lap the latter looks down. A still sleeping Johnny lays rested against Ponyboy’s side, arm draped across his lap and face nuzzling Pony’s side.
Ponyboy’s face heats up and he looks back at Soda, to find he has already left the room—most likely to head to work with Steve.
Once Ponyboy remembers that it’s Saturday he allows himself to lay back down, leaning into Johnny. A small smile graces Johnny’s lips as he pulls Pony harder against him.
Ponyboy doesn’t question it at first, closing his eyes and just focusing on the sound of Johnny’s breathing until he realizes.
“You ain’t asleep,” Ponyboy accuses, leaning back to look at Johnny’s face. Johnny’s hair is mussed from sleep and his brown eyes are shining with amusement.
“Never said I was,” Johnny retorts.
“Why aren’t you?”
When Johnny doesn’t respond for a moment Pony raises an eyebrow.
“Johnny.”
“What?” Johnny asks.
“You’re staring,” Ponyboy points out.
“Oh. Was I?” Johnny asks sheepishly, cheeks reddening.
Ponyboy nods. After a few seconds of silence Johnny sits up, pushing the blankets off of his lap.
“Hey, where are you going?” Ponyboy frowns.
“Need to piss,” Johnny answers, climbing out of bed.
“Can’t it wait?” Ponyboy reaches for Johnny’s hand, clasping it with his own.
“Pony.”
“Johnny.”
Johnny exhales slowly, seemingly thinking something over. His eyes stay on the cracked open bedroom door.
“Five more minutes?” Ponyboy asks, gently tugging Johnny’s hand and trying to pull him back into bed.
“Fine. Five.” Johnny climbs back into bed with Pony, pulling the younger boy against him.
Pony leans into the touch, eyes falling closed. He’s asleep before more than two minutes passes; breath evening out and his body resting more heavily against Johnny.
Johnny just rolls his eyes, moving to lay on his back and hold Pony against his chest. He closes his eyes too.
Johnny falls asleep before the five minutes are up, his cheek resting against the top of Ponyboy’s head. He has one arm around Pony’s back, fingers rubbing circles against it through the fabric of his shirt.
notes: kind of rushed ending. probably bad (i wrote this instead of sleeping).
summary: ponyboy and johnny share a bed
happy (late) birthday, ponyboy!! <3
Ponyboy had just managed to fall asleep when the bedroom door opening causes him to stir.
He figures it’s Soda, since him and Darry always stays up later than Pony does. Soda usually doesn’t come to bed until a few hours after Ponyboy, climbing in beside him and almost immediately seeking out the younger boys warmth.
Ponyboy doesn’t bother opening his eyes, just settles deeper into the mattress, cheek pressed against the cool material of his pillowcase. Usually if he’s still awake he and Soda will talk some, but right now he just wants to sleep.
He hears the sound of clothes rustling then a cold rush of air hits his back when the blankets are pulled up. He burrows his face against his pillow, making a quiet grumbling noise at the temperature change.
“Hurry up, Soda. It’s cold,” he complains. If he weren’t so tired he would do something about it, but he can barely keep his eyes open.
Pony hears a quiet snicker as something warm presses against his back, an arm sliding around his waist. “I ain’t Soda,” Johnny says softly.
Ponyboy stills, cheeks warming, a small smile growing on his lips. He slowly opens his eyes, turning slightly to look at Johnny over his shoulder; which is probably a bad idea. His eyes are half-lidded with sleep and his hair is messy. Ponyboy finds himself wanting to run his fingers through it.
“Why’re you here? I thought you went home,” Ponyboy asks.
“Was gonna. But I like it better here with you,” Johnny responds, his eyes meeting Ponyboys.
Ponyboy doesn’t know what to say to that, so he lays back down. Johnny closes his eyes, resting his forehead against the back of Ponyboy’s neck, his chest against Pony’s back.
Pony can feel Johnny’s warm breath against his skin, and he resists shivering at the sensation.
If Pony was tired then, he’s exhausted now. Johnny’s weight against him makes him more comfortable than he wants to admit and he feels his eyes sliding closed again.
“Hey, Pony?” Johnny asks quietly.
“Hm?” Ponyboy mumbles in response.
“This okay?”
Ponyboy is too tired to even fully understand what he’s asking. Possibly the cuddling is what he means.
“Yeah,” Ponyboy answers without thinking too hard. “You’re warm.”
Johnny smiles, pulling Ponyboy closer. He goes to rest his arm under Pony’s head, waiting a few seconds until the latter sits up a bit before doing so. Johnny’s fingers tangle in Pony’s hair, absentmindedly playing with the strands.
Ponyboy shifts slightly, leaning back into Johnny before allowing himself to fully fall asleep in the comfort of Johnny’s arms.
˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚
“Ain’t that cute.”
“Shut up, Soda,” Ponyboy murmurs, burrowing his face back against Johnny’s chest.
“Hey, I was bein’ nice,” Soda answers with a laugh.
“And I’m sleeping.” But really he isn’t. Not anymore. He’s still tired but figures he won’t be getting back to sleep soon so instead he sits up, rubbing his eyes.
His gaze finds Soda, who’s leaning against the doorway in his work uniform with his arms crossed. He has a smile on his lips and a teasing look on his face.
“What’s that look for?” Ponyboy inquires, eyeing Soda.
When Soda gestures to Ponyboy’s lap the latter looks down. A still sleeping Johnny lays rested against Ponyboy’s side, arm draped across his lap and face nuzzling Pony’s side.
Ponyboy’s face heats up and he looks back at Soda, to find he has already left the room—most likely to head to work with Steve.
Once Ponyboy remembers that it’s Saturday he allows himself to lay back down, leaning into Johnny. A small smile graces Johnny’s lips as he pulls Pony harder against him.
Ponyboy doesn’t question it at first, closing his eyes and just focusing on the sound of Johnny’s breathing until he realizes.
“You ain’t asleep,” Ponyboy accuses, leaning back to look at Johnny’s face. Johnny’s hair is mussed from sleep and his brown eyes are shining with amusement.
“Never said I was,” Johnny retorts.
“Why aren’t you?”
When Johnny doesn’t respond for a moment Pony raises an eyebrow.
“Johnny.”
“What?” Johnny asks.
“You’re staring,” Ponyboy points out.
“Oh. Was I?” Johnny asks sheepishly, cheeks reddening.
Ponyboy nods. After a few seconds of silence Johnny sits up, pushing the blankets off of his lap.
“Hey, where are you going?” Ponyboy frowns.
“Need to piss,” Johnny answers, climbing out of bed.
“Can’t it wait?” Ponyboy reaches for Johnny’s hand, clasping it with his own.
“Pony.”
“Johnny.”
Johnny exhales slowly, seemingly thinking something over. His eyes stay on the cracked open bedroom door.
“Five more minutes?” Ponyboy asks, gently tugging Johnny’s hand and trying to pull him back into bed.
“Fine. Five.” Johnny climbs back into bed with Pony, pulling the younger boy against him.
Pony leans into the touch, eyes falling closed. He’s asleep before more than two minutes passes; breath evening out and his body resting more heavily against Johnny.
Johnny just rolls his eyes, moving to lay on his back and hold Pony against his chest. He closes his eyes too.
Johnny falls asleep before the five minutes are up, his cheek resting against the top of Ponyboy’s head. He has one arm around Pony’s back, fingers rubbing circles against it through the fabric of his shirt.
