upside-down | pony imagine.


summary: ponyboy and reader admit their feelings for each other at the park.

Illiminated by moonlight, my brother and I wait at the park for his friend. You couldn’t tell it, but the night has barely begun with a time of only nine.

Johnny, my brother’s friend, is sleeping over our place tonight, and we agreed to meet him here — half way — after he finished dinner at the Curtis house.

My brother would probably be at the Curtises, too. Except our mother made him stay home for punishment. He’s really pissed at her for that.

Maybe a few months ago, I’d also be dining with the Curtis gang.

“He brought Ponyboy,” I note aloud as Johnny’s figure comes into view with another.

“That a good thing or a bad thing?” I wish I knew, myself. Is it — a good or bad thing?

Johnny hands my brother a cigarette when he reaches him. I know it’s a pack that Dallas Winston gave to him. “Hey, man. You ready to go?”

He nods, “Come on.”

I want to tell them that they’re acting like this is some sort of drug deal, but I keep my mouth shut.

I mean, boys are weird. If it was my friend, we’d be laughing and hugging and skipping back to my house.

I keep my comments to myself only because I know my idiot of a brother will retort back with something Curtis-related.

Johnny throws the awkward Ponyboy a glance. “Pony?”

Ponyboy swallows and looks at me. Why is he looking at me? “I’ll catch up later, Johnny. You guys can go on. ‘Sides I’d only be walkin’ further back to my house.”

My annoying brother sends me a wink, and walks off with Johnny. They’re such… diseases.

“We need to talk,” Pony states as he begins to climb the monkey bars. His hair isn’t as greasy as usual. “I can walk you back to your house, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worrying.” That was kind of bitchy, wasn’t it? Oops.

Pony keeps climbing the monkey bars, positioning himself at the very top and middle. He looks down at me. He’s really up there.

He has to be, like, ten feet high.

I look away, because I’m nervous. My heart’s pounding. I like him a lot more than I’m willing to admit, I think.

His green-grey eyes meet his hands which he fiddles with. The air is tense, thick.

“I miss you.”

What the — That’s not what I was expecting him to say. I’m happy, but I don’t show it quite yet. I let him continue.

“Can you come up here?” I’m not sure if he’s looking at me, because I refuse to look at him. “With me?”

I hate eye contact.

“I don’t want to get blisters on my hand,” I laugh a little in the middle of my statement. It’s forced. “I always get ‘em on those things.”

He makes a noise, like he finds it funny or something. “Yeah, alright. You heard what I said, didn’t you? I wasn’t lyin’, Y/N.”

“How?” Where are Johnny and my brother right now — Are they halfway to my house? Did they stop; hearing the constant noise inside Curly Shepard’s broken-down house?

“How? That’s an awfully weird question,” Ponyboy starts moving on the monkey bars. He’s trying to hang upside-down, I think. He’s gonna bust his head. “How do I miss you?”

He’s hanging by his legs. How the fuck is he doing that? This boy will be the death of me.

“You’re all I have,” he says. He’s red, blood all in his face. I don’t mind staring at him now. He’s not as intimidating upside-down.

Somehow, he’s lower than eye-to-eye. His chin is at mine.

“I’m stupid. Darry’s right 'cause I don’t use my head. Not one bit. Look, I just wanna be your guy, again. See, I really think I’m gonna die right now, but I mean, this sort of disguises the red my face would get saying this to you otherwise —" 

“Kiss me.”

Pony blinks. Then, I realize he can’t. He can’t kiss me. He tries to stretch towards me, but it’s kind of impossible to do.

So, we laugh and I kiss him while he’s dangling upside-down. I put my hands on his cheeks to keep him where I want him, and I really kiss him.

He’s more than shocked. So, so shocked that he lets go of the bar he’s holding onto.

I’m fairly certain Pony is out for a few seconds. I rub my face in exhaustion and possibly amusement, and bend down.

“Squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” I tell him. I know he’s fine, but I can’t help but make sure. He’s such an idiot. But he’s my idiot.

“I. am. so. good.” Ponyboy manages with a goofy smile.

“The Angel Gabriel meets ‘Amr ibn Zaid (the Shepherd)”, Folio from a Siyer-i Nebi (the Life of the Prophet)
Painting by Mustafa ibn Vali

Patron: Commissioned by Sultan Murad III (1574–95)

Author: Mustafa b. Yusuf al-Darir al-Erzerumi

Object Name: Folio from an illustrated manuscript

Date: ca. 1595 Geography:

Turkey, Istanbul