I was sitting on a stool in the Curtis's bathroom while Ponyboy worked his self-proclaimed magic on my head. He held a pair of scissors that he found on the kitchen counter. It was covered with old bits of food, but we washed it off.
"How short?" Ponyboy was talking as if he were a professional. One time he gave Sodapop a haircut. Through clenched teeth and a fake smile he gave Pony a thumbs up. We all knew he only did that because Soda could never say anything mean to Pony, but boy did that give Pony a huge ego boost.
"Only to my shoulder," I was stumbling over my words. I was shaking in my boots seeing Pony with those scissors. He was gonna give me some botched bob, or slip up mid-snip and slice open my neck. I don't even know why I agreed to this. Thats a lie, I do know.
Me and Ponyboy were sitting on the stairs of the porch. I was picking at my nails while he twirled the ends of my hair. My hair was roughly long. It reached down to the middle of my back and became curled and frizzy at the ends. It was also thick and dark. It got really annoying when summer came around. I would be drenched in sweat with strands of mile long hair all over my face. It made me look girlish.
"You'd look real tough with shorter hair. Like Dallas," Ponyboy said. His comment caught me off guard as I thought about it. To look like Dallas was a dream. He was the embodiment of masculinity— tall, sharp chin, defined cheekbones, blazing blue eyes that pierced diamonds. And his hair complemented everything. It would curl around his ears and neck—making him look like a lynx. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little envious.
Ponyboy jumped up and his face glowed like a lightbulb just turned on. "You should let me give you a haircut! Just a trim," Ponyboy said excitedly. He was nudging my shoulder as he listed more reasons why I should let him. I wasn't really listening to all the other reasons. The only one on my mind was looking like Dallas—tough. And plus I couldn't stand all this hair anyways. It fell over my forehead in wisps, and the rest would get caught in anything. Between the crevices of chairs or the hands of a Soc.
"Cmon Johnny, I know you hate having long hair like that anyways. Makes you look like a girl."
His comment stung a little, but the blow softened when he called me Johnny. (I feel kinda cute when u call me johnny🥺/insidejokebetweenmyfriends) Ive never seen Ponyboy be this persistent on something, but he can get really passionate, so it's not totally out of character.
Back in the present and I'm sitting on a rock hard stool. My behind was aching in this uncomfortable position, and my legs were getting pins and needles. Ponyboy didn't let me move, not even an inch. He said he'd mess up and I was scared he would, so I stood still like a statue. I didn't wanna turn out like Sodapop. But Soda is movie star handsome, he'd look good in anything. Me on the other hand, if Ponyboy messed up even a strand id look like one of Two-Bit's many blondes.
Seconds started feeling like minutes, and minutes started feeling like hours. Ponyboy was really zoned in—making sure every strand was falling perfectly in place. I was getting a bit antsy myself. I was turned towards the wall with my back facing the mirror. Ponyboy didn't want me to see until he was finished.
He finished with one last snip and spun me around towards the mirror. In the reflection, a boy stared back at me. I really did look tough. He had cut my hair a bit shorter than I asked him to, but I'm not complaining. My hair curled around my ears and neck, just like Dallas, and my bangs fell above my eyes in tufts.
I stared at the mirror for a minute before my thoughts were interrupted by Pony. "Whatdya think?" Ponyboy leaned over my shoulder. I felt a bit bashful and I didn't wanna admit he did do a pretty nice job, but glory he did a nice job.
"It's nice," I said with finality. I started picking at my nails again as Pony's smile grew. He looked just like Soda with his grin all wide like that.
Pony skipped away to get a broom and a dust pan to sweep away the black snakes shedded all over the room. I hopped off the stool but immediately regretted it. It felt like walking on knives. I mumbled a few ow's until the sense in my legs came back.
I leaned up against the mirror to get a closer look on my hair. Pony had cut layers all around and really thinned it out on the ends. It felt so freeing. My head felt a lot lighter now that the dense mat hanging down my neck was gone. A lot more breezy too.
Subconsciously, I was posing in the mirror. I didn't realize until a whistle caught me off guard. Ponyboy was at the door frame with a wide grin—chuckling as he leaned. I felt my face get hot. I opened my mouth to come up with an excuse, but closed it when nothing came out.
I pushed past him and ran to the door. My body was on auto pilot. I didn't know where I was walking until I was blinded by the blaring lights of a mustang. The sun had already settled and the sky was pitch black. The wind was blowing through the leaves—creating this eerie music. I didn't know why I ran out the Curtis's. Id much rather be laughed at than eat a fist full of rings.
I was panicking. My palms were getting clammy and my eyes were darting everywhere. Maybe just maybe id catch a glance of one of the gang. Maybe Steve and Soda would be walking home from the DX, or maybe Dallas was out looking for a fight, or maybe twobit drunk driving. Anything. Anyone.
I was only a few blocks from my own house. I hated that house, but I didn't see my dad's beaten down truck. Maybe he went out to get a beer. Maybe he wasn't home. It was a last hope and I sprinted as fast as I could. Ponyboy had been giving me advice on my form. I tried to remember what he said, but I forgot most of it so I was stumbling over my feet.
Five Socs hopped out the car and tailed me, but I was already at the door. I made it to the house and closed the door with a loud rusty click. My chest was rising and falling in uneven breaths.
My mom was in the kitchen with a beer bottle. She didnt even bother lifting her head. I didn't care. Shes always like this. I walked past her to my room with my hands stuffed in my pockets and my head down. If she was gonna pretend i didn't exist, then so be it.
I opened my bedroom door with a loud creak. I collapsed on my rock hard, bug ridden bed. I about decided to stay here for the night, I wouldn't wanna go back to the lot where Socs were camping.
I placed in a hand to my hair. It felt soft with the grease washed out. I wish I could wear my hair ungreased, but i wouldn't be a greaser. Our hair was our whole entire identity. The socs had mustangs and madrases with expensive new clothes and huge rings to define them. Poor greasers like us only have a little hair grease. The only affordable thing in Tulsa.
I want to make my own identity outside of a hood. Start somewhere new. Maybe change my name, change my hair, my clothes, and.. My eyelids started feeling heavier and heavier. The next thing I knew—it was bright and shining morning.
__________________________ transmasc johnny my kid This oneshot is actually so ahh but i only wrote it bc i wanted to write smth about the outsiders outside of my pb&j fanfic This was originally gonna be a pb&j centered but i left it ambiguous bc jally🧑🩰 i lowk rushed the end bc i started getting lazy loll
ok bye sweetness
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
guys my fanfic is actually canon bc this picture is real😱😱😱🤯🤯🤯
