Pony would randomly just jump on his brothers' backs and hug them like a koala while they act like it's not happening cause they're so used to it
Darry walks in
Two-bit: "Hey Darry, I think ya'll are out of bread"
Darry, with a ponyboy on his back: "Really? I'll get some later then." Darry gets out a bowl and starts pouring cereal
Two-bit: "make sure to get the- Woah, you know you got a wild pone sittin there on your back?"
Darry, acting like it's normal: "yup"
Pony: "yup"
Two-bit: "Is this normal?"
Darry: "mhm"
And he just keeps eating his cereal and reading the newspaper like there isn't a 14 year old on him
no but really
“me time” and it’s just lay in bed reading fanfiction for hours
i was born in the right era i love lana del rey and telling men to d!e online ♥
BAAAAAAAAABYYYYY, CANT YOU SEEEEEEEE?????
You wanted me sadder
Soda and Pony are the kind of kids who pretend to fall asleep in the car to make their parents carry them inside.
i love this
Quick sketch of the boys bc I couldn’t stop thinking abt them
wonder who's been stuffing all these poems in your locker .. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ | ponyboy curtis x gn ! reader
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after a tiring day of school, you were looking forward to two things and two things only-- the note that's slipped in your locker every day and getting home as soon as you can to read that note while you're wrapped up in your blanket, giggling and twirling your hair between your fingers.
as you make your way over to you locker, you catch a glimpse of a boy in the corner of your eye, seeming to be heading in the same direction. his hair is a shade of cedar brown, long in the back and shorter in the front. there's a slight gloss in his hair-- greasy, but not to the point where you can see your reflection through his locks. his eyes are a shade of greyish-green that immediately reminds you of the crisp autumn fog. he looks a bit nervous-- with his eyes darting around his surroundings and the way he twiddles with his hoodie strings, you'd think he was a deer in the headlights. he was quite cute, too. the kind of face that you want to plant a thousand kisses on while cupping their cheeks.
you decide to stop for a moment, see what he's up to that's got him so jittery. you rush towards the nearest pillar at an attempt to conceal yourself. just as you peer over the pillar, the boy slips a piece of folded paper into the slit of your locker. he stuffs his hands into his pockets, walking away with an attitude that looks indifferent on the surface, but is extremely tense beneath that façade. you could feel the heat from the red washing over your cheeks radiating and you can't help but grin as if you'd just won the lottery.
'you got me singing love songs, love songs' .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡
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“just because something looks ugly doesn’t mean that it is morally wrong” - ladybird
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