The gang's reactions to being cat-called

Request: can you do hcs for the gangs reaction to being cat-called? thanks! :)

Dally: “What the fuck? Who did that?!”

Two-Bit: “I know I have a good ass, but that’s disrespectful.”

Darry: “What just happened? I feel violated…”

Ponyboy: “I don’t know what to do? Do I say thank you, I mean, it’s technically a compliment?”

Steve: “I don’t know what just happened, but I liked it?”

Sodapop: *blushes and walks away swaying hips*

Johnny: *blushes embarrassed and walks away shyly to go find Dally*

it's that "darry is a stripper" fic. holy shit

AN: thanks to@damhan-does-art I wrote this. thanks for the idea? I hate myself. Also! This isn’t intended to be a shipping thing, but if you ship them that’s alright.

Your name is Keith Matthews and you consider yourself to be all around a cool guy. Totally! You have a cool nickname you go by, Two Bit, and you pal around with what you would consider some of the tuffest bloakes on your side of town. While most perceive you as a hoodlum and a bit-for lack of a better word, stupid, that doesn’t bring down your spirits in the slightest.

One of those friends, which is called Dally, has a letter that needs to be delivered to him. The (rather polite) lady who assigned you to be the messenger said that it was from a close relative. You dismissed this as a lie, but decided to dish back some of the kindness that she has given you previously.  That was six and a half hours ago and it was getting dark. Why didn’t you give it to him sooner? You have absolutely no clue as you find it almost crumpled down in the pocket of your jeans.

You woke up on the Curtis’ couch moments before you reached out for the letter. Johnny Cade, another friend, was on the opposite end of the sofa. To let the kid rest a bit better, even while he seems pretty dang small already, you sit up and create the least amount of space possible so more of it could go to him. That’s why you hop up and start for their kitchen. His legs sprawl out instinctively after you rise.

Inside the kitchen is another kid, you know him pretty well if you say so yourself. Only fourteen, but you consider him to be a tad too bright to be this poor. Almost like his oldest brother, who seems to be at work already even if it is this late. Attention shifting back to the boy in the kitchen who’s called Ponyboy, you greet him with a smile and grab yourself a Pepsi Cola.

When paying more attention you can see he’s sketching some little pictures on a piece of paper. For his sake you don’t look too long, but when he even gets a hint that you are his notebook lunges closer to his chest in order to shield your eyes from it.

The thought makes you want to chuckle, making you remember when you were like that the first time you were in the ninth grade. He was about to go to the same year in school actually, after the summer was over.

“What'cha doin’ up so late there, Pone?”

“Drawing,” he murmurs. Pony doesn’t have as much as a drawl as the others when he wants to. You think it’s because he wants to appear more dignified than the rest, even when he still clowns around with them. “And what are you doing up so late, Two? Know you just woke up and it’s ‘bout midnight.”

Laughing his accusations off, you claim it’s been a long day. You’re not exactly lying in this case, but you know you could have thought of something better to say if you were given more time to think. With that thought, you haven’t even opened your Pepsi. It was just getting your palm wet and cold. Gross. When you put it back into the ice box, you can half-hear the kid behind you holding back a scoff.

Telling him you’re going to take a little walk, you suggest he keeps the door unlocked. That request was more of a formality thing because of Dallas; He always barges in as he pleases. Ponyboy gives a nod, leading you out. Mostly this was because he wanted to make sure Johnny stay asleep and that you wouldn’t make too much noise as you see yourself out. Before you go, you manage to bum a cig off the boy, lighting it as you abscond.

After you take a drag on it, everything feels warm. Mostly it’s your throat that burns, but because it’s late July the streets aren’t exactly cold. Your left hand gravitating to your pocket, you feel around for the letter and settle yourself for a rather time consuming walk.

It’s not like you’re slow, of course not! More than anything it’s caused by ignorance of where Dally is. Why couldn’t he stay in one place at night like a normal lad? Fuck if you know.

Some smoke escapes your lips while you draw near most of the places that he likes to visit besides this certain bar that you think you’ve never been inside. When you think about it, you kind of do deserve a drink. After all, you didn’t get that Pepsi from earlier and a beer or two isn’t really a poor idea. What could go wrong?

With a completely blank mind and a cigarette butt in hand, you allow the door to fly open in front of you while you toss the finished product on the doorstep. Music was blaring and you almost felt the urge to cover your ears, but you don’t as you ease into the chaotic sound.

Not really to your surprise, as you lurk deeper you’re able to see partially dressed women dancing for the entertainment of some men who have arrived earlier. They were prepared for a show, even when they have their eyes widened for no particular reason. What really had you puzzled was a group of greaser girls on the other end of the room, snickering and just spreading overall gossip. You make your way over there to see what was going on. Dal could wait.

Before you could poke fun at some of the men staring down the stripping women like raw meat, they leave the room and enter another. Of course you follow, wanting to get a good joke in.

Upon entering, you proceed to laugh your ass off. What you observe upon entering is a man, one alone, dancing in a rather erotic fashion. What he’s dressed in leaves little to the imagination, and from looking around you can see that you’re the only other male in the room besides him. You can admit, he’s pretty beefy for dancing in a way that’s so…girly?

With his back turned to everyone, his hands rest on his knees while he’s bent over and pumping himself to be back into a standing position. The purpose of the move was to show off his ass as he shook it rhythmically with the song playing, but you don’t pay that much attention until he turns back to the women to collect any money they had. Your jaw drops.

While the muscular man struts into the group of women, your eyes wander to his face and you recognize him in a split second with horror. Darrel Curtis. His gaze doesn’t reach yours until he slips the change into the front of his tight, leather thong. At this instant, you knew you were dead.

As he walks to you his business jiggles, but he wears the brand of confidence and pure rage that advertises that he either doesn’t know or that he doesn’t care. Without a second thought, you make a break for it before he can scold you. Just to be safe, you sleep at your house tonight. No one has ever spoken of this again.

The Greasers as thing my brothers have said

Two-Bit: I got suspended for drinking with my friends. All my friends got put in this rehab program except for me. Why? Because I am a quote, unquote “Hopeless Case”

Dally: I’d like to start by saying Gaston did nothing wrong. He left Belle’s dad outside to get eaten by wolves! Yeah, because Belle’s dad was a little bitch!

Sodapop: I may be the middle child but I am also the most charismatic, handsome, and popular soooooo you all can suck it.

Steve: When I was your age I got suspended. Why? Becuase I wrote a fake newspaper for the school and one of the articles’ claimed that Josh’s mom was a hermaphrodite. 

Ponyboy: Uh, can I go to the nurse? I got this pencil stuck in my hand there is a whole lot of blood coming out.

Darry: Hey! The oldest gets shotgun! The youngest gets depression and daddy issues but that’s okay you’ll love it.

Johhny: Something must’ve stunt my growth when I was younger. I bet when adults see me at my job they think, Who let this 6-year-old be in charge of making me a sandwich?

Dally: Johnny man, you look really good

Johnny: r-really? T-thanks Dal

Dally: ya, you know what you’d look even better on?

Johnny: what?

Dally: My d-

Steve: A bench in a church, thank you good lord

The Outsiders as real quotes from people I go to school with...
  • Ponyboy: "when I stepped out, into the cold wind, from the odd warmth of the school... I had only two things in my mind. A jacket and a ride home."
  • Johnny: "please... don't... talk to me... ever..."
  • Dallas: "I'm not a tease, I'm a natural, sexual, flirt."
  • Two-bit: "after four years of this hell hole I finally know enough al-gee-braah to hit the poles."
  • Steve: "if you think I won't eat all five of these candy bars before lunch you're wrong."
  • Sodapop: "Fuck this," *slams school computer shut* "I'm pretty."
  • Darry: "I've been teaching for more than ten years and I'm pretty sure this is the weirdest request I've gotten."
  • Tim: "it's supposed to smell like smoke, not Cotten candy."
  • Angela: "if anyone ask, those aren't my nudes."
  • Curly: "no one gives a shit, the janitor caught me smoking weed in the bathroom, she just sprayed some Febreeze and walked out."
  • Cherry: "Yes, I'm a real ginger. Yes, I do steal souls." *points at freckle* "this one is yours."
  • Marcia: "I'm not a lesbian I just really like your boobs."
  • Bob: "That's my pube, give it back!"
  • Randy: "he might smell bad but he's pretty cool."

psychic: *reads my mind*

my mind: You know, some guys my age man… they forget about drinking milk. I don’t know why, maybe they forget how good milk is. Milk’s great. It’s natural, uh… it’s satisfying. I like it when it tastes cold. You just can’t beat it. So don’t you forget it. I’m drinking milk for good.

psychic: what the fuck


ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛsɪᴅᴇʀs x ᴛɪᴍᴇ  ♡