Ponyboy Curtis is a simple man. he likes movies and books, writing and reading. that sort of thing. he’s a bit of an awkward person but he tries his best. he had you when he was only 14, young? i know. but things are complicated and your mother isn’t in the picture. his brothers, Sodapop who is the middle child and Darry who is the oldest, help take care of you and Ponyboy himself.

Ponyboy is now 18 and you are his 4 year old of course. you have some problems though, but when you were born- Ponyboy read up on every book he could so he could take care of you the best way he knew. he read articles and chapter parenting books, child psychology things, everything. but he loves you so much and he’d do anything for you. he knows about your certain issues, like the way you don’t like the chunks in the jam or the way your socks have to be just right, not too loose and not too tight and the seam can’t be too thick on your toes. now, it’s the 70’s so of course things aren’t insanely good with mental disorders but he knew you weren’t like other kids. and that was okay- he didn’t mind adjusting things for you

it was a warm evening in Tulsa Oklahoma and Ponyboy had just picked you up from school and finished his college classes for the semester so you two had winter break together. he walked you inside and glanced at your arm, bite marks all over your hand and lower arm. he sighed heavily- he knows you usually bite yourself to soothe and how it’s unhealthy. he’s trying to help you stop and substitute it. he also knows the teachers at school don’t keep track of it but this winter break he will

“hey, c’mere honey, can i see your arm? yeah? i just gotta look, make sure you don’t have any cuts” he crouched down in front of you