How To Draw Ponyboy Curtis Step By Step

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November 18, 2018

Friday {artist au} - [Ponyboy Curtis x Reader]

based on this

* this is a modern au and ponyboy is aged up

You caught his attention, not because of your looks — you were pretty though — it was the yellow knit sweater that you wore. It was very similar to the one that he was currently wearing but yours had a small enamel pin on the right. He couldn't make out what it was from across the classroom.

You'd only just transferred to his school, two weeks into the new school year and he was intrigued by you. It wasn't often they got transfers from out of state and there was quite the buzz about you. If you knew, you didn't show it and mostly kept to yourself.

"I like your sweater," he almost choked on his spit when he realized that you, you, were talking to him.

"Thanks, I got it from Goodwill," he didn't stumble over his words, but why did he tell you that?

"Oh hey, I got mine from Goodwill too." You smile at him and sit at his table, "is it okay if I sit over here? Table three is annoying and too crowded."

"Yeah, I don't mind," Ponyboy couldn't believe his luck. The mysterious new student was sitting with him and complimenting him.

It was silent after you thanked him - it was just a planning day in the studio so it was mostly quiet except for the classical music that played over the speakers and the before mentioned table three gossiping. Ponyboy didn't really know what to do for this project. It they had to do was plan out a design for a pot but it couldn't be a simple pot.

"What are you doing for your bowl?" He asked you, after erasing yet another design.

"Hm," you lifted your head out of your sketchbook, "oh, I have no idea."

"Then what have you been drawing?" You'd been hunched over and the soft scratching from your pencil had filled the silence at the table.

You flipped around your sketchbook and Ponyboy saw that you were drawing a sunflower. A very detailed sunflower.

"The shading on that is really good, wow," Ponyboy was genuinely surprised. It seemed as if you had an eye for fine details.

"Thanks," you shrug, "I don't really like it, though."

"Maybe that can be your bowl design?" He suggested, pleased with how your face lit up.

"That's a great idea! Thank you, Pony," you said with a warm smile.

Your eyes meet across the table and it lingers, before he glances away.

"You should design a cat for your vase," you offer with a small laugh.

"Why?" He wasn't opposed to it and frankly had no ideas.

"Who doesn't love cats?" You raise your eyebrows at him, "although, I bet you have a dog."

"I do," Ponyboy chuckles at the look on your face, "but I wouldn't mind designing a cat. Like one of those really tall and skinny cats that seem all elegant."

Your eyes shine, "that's exactly what I had in mind."

————

He didn't see you for the rest of the day. It turned out that Ceramics was the only class you shared together.

You texted him throughout the day, blatantly ignoring the no cell phone policy, and each time his phone vibrated he smiled when he saw your name come up. He answered the questions you occasionally asked, but for the most part, you just talked to him. Maybe you were just lonely and only talking to him because he was the first friend you made at a new school, but he couldn't help but feel flattered. You had a cute smile, nice eyes, your hair was pretty. Ponyboy thought you were beautiful.

Lunch came up and Ponyboy waited by the entrance. His eyes scanned the crowd for any sight of you and almost drops his notebook when someone tap his shoulder from behind.

"Jesus!" He exclaims, turning around with half the mind to punch whoever it was. Instead, he's faced with your sheepish face.

"Nope, not him." You say, biting back a smile.

"Real funny," he scoffs, but he's smiling.

"So, how do the art kids spend their lunch?"

"Well that depends…"

"On what?"

"Whether you smoke."

"Well I don't. What are my options?"

Ponyboy pretends to think about it, "well…you could hang out on the bleachers like I do, or eat in the art rooms. Mrs. Lou doesn't mind."

"Bleachers?"

You pull out a wrapped sandwich, "lead the way, Ponyboy."

——

Weeks fly by and summer has officially gone. Trees that were once a vibrant green are curling with yellow and red, fluttering to the ground one-by-one. The wind that was once a comforting breeze against the scorching sun is now a bitter assailant in the streets. It marked an end to your lunches outside with Ponyboy. Only after shaking from the cold for an entire afternoon, even indoors, did you and Ponyboy decide to move lunch inside. It turned out that he knew a lot of spots in school, ones that weren't frequented.

The auditorium was always empty, unless a school production was being put on or used for a class. During lunch, though, it was always empty. There was something about being in there. The dim lighting, collected dust, the feeling that you shouldn't be in there - it was your favorite spot in school.

Ponyboy was laying sprawled out across the stage, his piece of the sandwich you brought and shared next to him, his sketchbook in front of him. You watched as he sketched a sunset that he had described to you earlier. The sight was much more interesting than the geometry homework you were attempting to do.

"Hey, Pony," you say, interrupting the flow he was in.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna hang out after school?"

He stops mid-sketch, his hand frozen over the paper. "Uh, you wanna hang out with me? Outside of school?"

"We're friends," you say, concealing your laugh at his shocked face. "I want to hang out with you. If you're cool with it?"

"Yeah, that's cool." He tries to hide his blush.

Why did he have to be so awkward around you?

—

Ponyboy was pretty sure his heart was going to beat out of his chest. It had been beating extremely fast at your invite of hang-out. He stumbles into the DX, hoping that Sodapop was a break.

"Soda," he calls out to his brother.

Sodapop walks past the counter, messing up his hair. "Hey, little brother. Whata doing here?"

"Remember that girl I told you about?"

"The real artsy one?"

Before he can respond, Steve cuts in. "As if he talks to other girls."

"Shut up, Steve."

He suddenly couldn't find the words to say. Not when Steve was waiting to ridicule him. Soda picked up on that, leading him to a more secluded spot.

"What's going on?" He asks softly, concern shining through.

"She asked me to hang out on Friday and I said I would."

"All that fuss for a girl?" Soda laughs, his concern gone. "Listen, Pony, she's just a girl. No biggie. Follow my advice and you'll be fine. Just be yourself. She wouldn't be asking to hangout if she wasn't interested in you."

Those words rang through his head on his walk home. Be yourself. How could he? He acted differently around the gang than he did around you. He hoped that Darry would have words to reassure him.

Darry was home, early for once, and prepping supper. "Hey, Ponyboy."

"Hey, Darry…" he trudged into the kitchen, beginning a tangent of words that he managed to rein in, "so, I don't know. We're friends, but she digs okay, and she understands me."

Darry doesn't respond right away, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to look at him. His eyes are unusually bright, the only giveaway that he isn't completely serious at the moment. "Just be respectful, alright? This isn't an official date, but it's just a date without the pressure of being a date."

Somehow that made him feel worse.

——

Ponyboy hopes that he looks nothing like the nervous symphony that is stringing along inside of him.

It was Friday. The day of your designated hang-out.

He was not nervous. In the slightest. Just…apprehensive.

His stomach drops when he sees Steve saunter towards him.

Steve claps his shoulder, "don't forget protection, Ponyboy."

"Shut up, Steve." Ponyboy is sure that his cheeks are deep red.

Just when he's beginning to entertain the thought that you were joking and it was all a prank, he sees you turn the corner looking sheepish.

"I'm sorry, Pony, Mr. Peters called my ass out for the paper I did." You huff, "said it was bullshit. Well, not his words, but that's what he meant."

"Mr. Peters sucks," Ponyboy says, "had him last semester and it was awful. Never took him again."

"I know that now," you scoff, but shrug it off. "So, have you heard of the Tulsa Art Museum?"

"I went once with my parents, when I was real little."

"I was wondering, because they're bringing a limited-time Van Gogh exhibit to it and I wanna go. I love his work."

"Maybe we could go together…" he looked more confident than he felt.

Your eyes lit up, "I'd love, too. I'll look into more details and let you know."

Ponyboy nods, eyes shifting past you and to the dreary gray sky. You turn to follow his gaze and frown.

"I hope it clears up tonight. I want to stargaze."

"I just want to see the sunset."

—

Your house is simple. Ponyboy is surprised at how quiet and still it seems, almost untouched.

"My parents are at work, so it's just us." You tell him as you unlock the door, "I probably should've told you that before."

"S'okay."

Your bedroom is almost exactly how he pictured it to be. Not that he thought about it often…

Silence lingers in the room before you pull out one of your sketchbooks.

"Will you be my model for an art assignment?" You ask hopefully.

"For what class?" He knew that the ceramics class didn't require any human portraits.

"Art two. We're on the portrait section," you explain, "it'll only be a quick sketch, won't take long."

Ponyboy shrugs, walking over to your windowsill and taking a seat. His head leans against the frame as he takes in the sunset. You have a good view of sunsets from your window.

Time passes by in comfortable silence. The only sound being the scratching of your pen on paper, distant hums of cars passing by, and the soft tap of his foot on the floor.

"I'm done," you say, walking over to show him what you drew.

His eyes widen as he takes it in. It's a simple pen drawing, with minimal details and just a basic outline of him.

"I purposely left it minimal," you explain, "I'm going to use watercolor to capture the sunset."

"Do you have a kit with you?"

Your eyes seem to glow as you bring it out, "I was thinking it would mainly be yellow with some pink and orange."

"Yeah, pale daffodil would work, but I think it was more bright yellow."

"You're right."

He looks over the colors you have. Admiring the selection as you both work out the color scheme. It reminds him of ceramic class and he feels warm at the thought. He felt comfortable with you.

"Hey, follow me."

His heart stops when you slide the window up and climb onto the roof. You stick your head back in, eyes bright and smiling.

"Grab my blanket, it's chilly."

He does as he's told, clambering through the window no near as gracefully as you had. You take the blanket from him and wrap it around both of your shoulders, head leaning on his shoulder. Your eyes are trained solely on the sky, watching the twinkling stars and seeing pictures that he could never make out.

You were utterly enchanted by stars, having a random fact to sprout out at any given moment. Now, you seemed content to just gaze at the stars.

"Is that the Big Dipper?" Ponyboy points, squinting as he tries to make it out.

"No, it's right…" you grab his hand, moving it to the correct spot, "there."

He looks down at you, "you sure love space, don't you?"

"I wouldn't be wearing," you pull up your jeans to reveal socks with spaceships on them, "these, if I wasn't."

Ponyboy laughs, admiring them. He looks down at you, the words dying in his throat when he sees just how close his face is to you. You don't move away and neither does he. It's still for a moment. He can hear more cars driving by, their lights shining light on the house before disappearing. His hands are cold and he finds that so are yours, when you touch his cheek. You pull him in for a kiss that makes him feel warm and fuzzy. He breaks away, cheeks flushing. Your lips are swollen, parting to say something that you never do as he's pressing his lips against yours.

Time stills and he can only focus on how you taste and how you feel. This was by no means his first kiss, but there was something about being under the stars. Something about you. He couldn't get enough. You nip his bottom lip and he all but melts into you, letting out a sigh.

His phone goes off in his pocket, startling him as he breaks away abruptly. It's a notification from Darry.

Come home soon, please.

Checking the time, it's past 10. Past his curfew. He sighs, looking at you unsurely. "I better go."

He crawls back inside your room, gathering his things as you watch him from the window.

His shoes scuff on your floor as he chooses to avoid your gaze, "so,,,"

"So, same time next Friday?" You say, smiling when he lets out a dorky grin.

"Yeah, next Friday."

—————

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