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Some quick stevepop fanart I did today to distract myself from the horrors

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OH MY GOD

stevie 😍😍😍

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do you have any outsiders hc’s you’d like to ramble about because i will so read them

i have so many actually

steve is latino in my head. like there is no other possibility. strangely i haven't chosen a country (tbh all latino characters i make up are chilean bc my parents are chilean and like... projecting) but there is no doubt in my mind that he's latino

his mom spoke spanish and now he has Issues with speaking spanish

also the curtis brothers are jewish. ponyboy's the most religious of any of them. he would've done his bar mitzvah like four months before his parents died, i think, and that was like the turning point. before that he didn't really have much of an opinion (the family as a whole isn't all that religious), but after that he started going to the synagogue more often.

steve and soda are so gay for each other

ponyboy is aroace, and depending on how i'm feeling darry can be aroace, gay, straight, or bi. real wild card lmao. soda's alloace and that definitely plays into his dynamic with sandy and god i need to write that analysis

also this is completely random but like... evie and marcia. idk if i ship them but i want to explore their dynamic so much despite neither of them really existing in canon

i think that's all but thank youu for the ask <333333

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pid-bit commission for @crazability

they’re so gorgeous….Tim and Paul are there too

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Steve's liked cars since before he knew. He's just always liked them. He stared at the fancy ones people from across town drove, and he liked to admire the one his dad kept the the garage.

Ten years ago Steve Randle met Sodapop Curtis. Sodapop was six going on seven, and Steve was seven. The former was a loud outspoken kid with an average home life. Two loving parents and two brothers to keep him company. The latter wasn't so lucky, his parents were going through an ugly divorce and they didn't bother to make sure he was okay during any of it.

Steve, like any other little boy, craved attention. He knew Sodapop got attention, he knew it almost as soon as he became friends with the boy. He could tell from his jokes, his smile, the way he talked like everyone was listening, and his confidence that he was a boy everyone always noticed. Maybe that's why Steve stuck by him, copying his confident nature in a way that came off as cocky. Copying his loud volume in a way that made him annoying to most.

Soda figured that Steve liked cars one day a few months after they had just met. Steve always had a small toy car from home stuffed in his backpack hidden away from his parents in case they decided he was in trouble for the day. He had it out during recess, which immediately caught Soda's eyes. It was old and beaten up, but he could tell it used to be a model of those fancy bright red cars that looked like they had a mustache in the front.

Soda plopped down next to the boy, watching him zoom the car back and forth on the grass, opening and shutting the door then walking his hands with his fingers away from the car. Soda was amazed, the car looked fancy. Much more than any toys that Soda had, his were all one solid piece of plastic but Steve's- Steve's had functioning doors, fancy seats, and if you had something small enough you could probably stick it in one of the seats.

But its paint was chipped, there were a few dents in it and one of the car doors wouldn't close correctly. He learned that after observing Steve try and shut it a few times after playing with it for a while. The car was well-loved and had clearly been through a lot.

"That's a cool car." Soda stated, then Steve looked at him.

"It's my only one." The little boy mumbled, tightening his grip on it. Soda didn't understand why, he wasn't going to take it away from him or anything.

"What is it?" The blonde asked with a genuine curiosity that Steve couldn't help but fumble at. He picked the car up from off the ground and sat crisscrossed on the grass. Soda waited patiently for his response.

"It's, uhm, a Ford Convertible," Steve played with the car in his hands, then looked up at Soda. "You could see some around town if you look hard enough."

"I think I have," Soda replied quickly, "They look real fancy."

Soda looked at Steve in awkward silence for a few more moments, and then Steve awkwardly held the car out for Soda to take. "Here," He mumbled, looking away from Soda as he gave him the toy. "You can play with it if you want."

Soda beamed, grabbing the car quickly and zooming it around the floor. Steve's hand almost followed after the car when Soda took it harshly, but he held it back when he saw the excited look on his face.

"Just be careful with it," Steve grumbled as he watched.

That day Soda forgot to give it back, it had just slipped his mind. Recess ended abruptly and everyone rushed inside to continue the school day.

When Steve got home that day he placed his bag down in his room, and later when his parents started fighting he retreated back to busy himself with his prized possession. He was scrounging through his bag trying to find it, and when he couldn't he almost started to cry.

He must have been making too much noise because then it alerted his dad. He doesn't know what necessarily ticked him off, the mess he made while throwing around everything in his bag or the crying from Steve. But his father gave him something reasonable to cry about after he found him.

The next day in school Steve's hands were balled up into fists, trying to distract himself from crying over something stupid again as he tried to confront his new friend. He'd told Soda how he must've accidentally taken the car home with him, and the other boy was extremely apologetic.

Despite how apologetic he was though, he didn't get that car back for a while. Soda kept forgetting. Steve would ask at least once a week, and Soda would always look so genuinely crushed every time he was reminded.

When he finally got the car back it was around December. He'd given the car to him in October.

Soda invited Steve to his house for the first time and was excited to introduce Steve as his best friend. Soda had claimed that if he'd just waited for his parents instead of getting on the bus like he usually did his parents would be happy to have him over.

They waited for Soda's parents outside the school, and when they pulled up they almost expected the little boy standing next to Sodapop. They introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, and they seemed like sweet people. They had the same genuine smile as Soda did, and they always spoke gently. The complete opposite of his own.

“So, Steve, you and Soda just met this year, right?” His mother asked, and Steve nodded in response. He regrettably wasn’t paying much attention to the questions, just nodding along to whatever his parents had said.

He was focusing on the car that they had, what condition it was in, and how much it would be worth. He was way off, but that was only because he was seven and didn’t understand the concept of capitalism much. It was some type of Ford, but he personally thought his model was better.

When they pulled up in front of the house he noticed some stark contrasts from his own, although the house looked poor enough it had a well-taken-care lawn, its front door was open and its screen door was closed, and it had a nice paint job.

When he entered the house it had this warm aura to it, comforting and happy.

"Soda, why don't you go get Steve that surprise you had for him?" His mother urged, and then Soda bounced up and down excitedly. The younger boy ran off into a room, slamming the door. Steve flinched slightly at the loud noise, then turned to look at Mrs. Curtis quizzically.

He didn't get a response before Soda came barreling in holding something in each of his hands. He held them out to Steve, smiling at him excitedly. There he was holding Steve's old busted-up red Model Ford Convertible and a second one that Steve recognized as a dark blue Model 1947 Cadillac.

Steve could almost cry.

"They're both for you! I told Mama about how I kept forgettin' your car and felt real bad," He said shyly as Steve took the cars from his hands, "So she helped me get another as an apology!"

Steve looked up at Mrs. Curtis, he wasn't stupid, and he knew Soda couldn't buy one himself. Obviously, Mrs. Curtis had done this. He tried to hold back tears and mouthed a quick thank you.

So yeah, you could say Steve Randle liked cars. He liked them a lot, actually.

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Steve's liked cars since before he knew. He's just always liked them. He stared at the fancy ones people from across town drove, and he liked to admire the one his dad kept the the garage.

Ten years ago Steve Randle met Sodapop Curtis. Sodapop was six going on seven, and Steve was seven. The former was a loud outspoken kid with an average home life. Two loving parents and two brothers to keep him company. The latter wasn't so lucky, his parents were going through an ugly divorce and they didn't bother to make sure he was okay during any of it.

Steve, like any other little boy, craved attention. He knew Sodapop got attention, he knew it almost as soon as he became friends with the boy. He could tell from his jokes, his smile, the way he talked like everyone was listening, and his confidence that he was a boy everyone always noticed. Maybe that's why Steve stuck by him, copying his confident nature in a way that came off as cocky. Copying his loud volume in a way that made him annoying to most.

Soda figured that Steve liked cars one day a few months after they had just met. Steve always had a small toy car from home stuffed in his backpack hidden away from his parents in case they decided he was in trouble for the day. He had it out during recess, which immediately caught Soda's eyes. It was old and beaten up, but he could tell it used to be a model of those fancy bright red cars that looked like they had a mustache in the front.

Soda plopped down next to the boy, watching him zoom the car back and forth on the grass, opening and shutting the door then walking his hands with his fingers away from the car. Soda was amazed, the car looked fancy. Much more than any toys that Soda had, his were all one solid piece of plastic but Steve's- Steve's had functioning doors, fancy seats, and if you had something small enough you could probably stick it in one of the seats.

But its paint was chipped, there were a few dents in it and one of the car doors wouldn't close correctly. He learned that after observing Steve try and shut it a few times after playing with it for a while. The car was well-loved and had clearly been through a lot.

"That's a cool car." Soda stated, then Steve looked at him.

"It's my only one." The little boy mumbled, tightening his grip on it. Soda didn't understand why, he wasn't going to take it away from him or anything.

"What is it?" The blonde asked with a genuine curiosity that Steve couldn't help but fumble at. He picked the car up from off the ground and sat crisscrossed on the grass. Soda waited patiently for his response.

"It's, uhm, a Ford Convertible," Steve played with the car in his hands, then looked up at Soda. "You could see some around town if you look hard enough."

"I think I have," Soda replied quickly, "They look real fancy."

Soda looked at Steve in awkward silence for a few more moments, and then Steve awkwardly held the car out for Soda to take. "Here," He mumbled, looking away from Soda as he gave him the toy. "You can play with it if you want."

Soda beamed, grabbing the car quickly and zooming it around the floor. Steve's hand almost followed after the car when Soda took it harshly, but he held it back when he saw the excited look on his face.

"Just be careful with it," Steve grumbled as he watched.

That day Soda forgot to give it back, it had just slipped his mind. Recess ended abruptly and everyone rushed inside to continue the school day.

When Steve got home that day he placed his bag down in his room, and later when his parents started fighting he retreated back to busy himself with his prized possession. He was scrounging through his bag trying to find it, and when he couldn't he almost started to cry.

He must have been making too much noise because then it alerted his dad. He doesn't know what necessarily ticked him off, the mess he made while throwing around everything in his bag or the crying from Steve. But his father gave him something reasonable to cry about after he found him.

The next day in school Steve's hands were balled up into fists, trying to distract himself from crying over something stupid again as he tried to confront his new friend. He'd told Soda how he must've accidentally taken the car home with him, and the other boy was extremely apologetic.

Despite how apologetic he was though, he didn't get that car back for a while. Soda kept forgetting. Steve would ask at least once a week, and Soda would always look so genuinely crushed every time he was reminded.

When he finally got the car back it was around December. He'd given the car to him in October.

Soda invited Steve to his house for the first time and was excited to introduce Steve as his best friend. Soda had claimed that if he'd just waited for his parents instead of getting on the bus like he usually did his parents would be happy to have him over.

They waited for Soda's parents outside the school, and when they pulled up they almost expected the little boy standing next to Sodapop. They introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, and they seemed like sweet people. They had the same genuine smile as Soda did, and they always spoke gently. The complete opposite of his own.

“So, Steve, you and Soda just met this year, right?” His mother asked, and Steve nodded in response. He regrettably wasn’t paying much attention to the questions, just nodding along to whatever his parents had said.

He was focusing on the car that they had, what condition it was in, and how much it would be worth. He was way off, but that was only because he was seven and didn’t understand the concept of capitalism much. It was some type of Ford, but he personally thought his model was better.

When they pulled up in front of the house he noticed some stark contrasts from his own, although the house looked poor enough it had a well-taken-care lawn, its front door was open and its screen door was closed, and it had a nice paint job.

When he entered the house it had this warm aura to it, comforting and happy.

"Soda, why don't you go get Steve that surprise you had for him?" His mother urged, and then Soda bounced up and down excitedly. The younger boy ran off into a room, slamming the door. Steve flinched slightly at the loud noise, then turned to look at Mrs. Curtis quizzically.

He didn't get a response before Soda came barreling in holding something in each of his hands. He held them out to Steve, smiling at him excitedly. There he was holding Steve's old busted-up red Model Ford Convertible and a second one that Steve recognized as a dark blue Model 1947 Cadillac.

Steve could almost cry.

"They're both for you! I told Mama about how I kept forgettin' your car and felt real bad," He said shyly as Steve took the cars from his hands, "So she helped me get another as an apology!"

Steve looked up at Mrs. Curtis, he wasn't stupid, and he knew Soda couldn't buy one himself. Obviously, Mrs. Curtis had done this. He tried to hold back tears and mouthed a quick thank you.

So yeah, you could say Steve Randle liked cars. He liked them a lot, actually.

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Tex wip

I ain’t posted much art this week cos I was focusing on my zine comic (which you should check out btw, it’ll be in @stay-gold-zine), but rest assured I’ve been drawing almost constantly lol. So here’s the lineart for this Tex drawing I’m working on (may or may not finish, but yk)

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Ponyboy walking down the hall a couple weeks after canon next to Steve and Soda and suddenly feeling a heavy arm around his shoulders, tugging him against someone to his left. Expecting Soda, he looks up, but finds Steve glaring at a Soc across the hall.

Darry getting home after a long day and going to grab the grocery list before heading back out only to find it isn't there. He sighs and opens the fridge, which now has everything that was on the list, along with a sticky note that reads "on the old man".

Dally being forced to set the table with Steve. Looking over the knives, searching for the one with the red handle (the best one) and finding it already at his spot.

Johnny showing up at the lot after wandering away from the Curtises' because Darry and Ponyboy were fighting, to find a thick blanket he recognises as the one Steve always brings when he's kicked out.

Two-Bit getting up and walking out of his house, dreading the long walk to the Curtises' the day after Ponyboy showed up at the hospital, and finding Steve waiting in his car, thumbing through some magazine he definitely doesn't find as interesting as he tells Two-Bit it is.

Soda noticing all the little things Steve does for everyone else, seeing the effort he puts into showing what he's been taught to never say. And yet, somehow, he remains oblivious to the fact that the shoulder nudges and slightly too long hugs and grins from across the street are different from how Steve treats everyone else.

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OOO HOLD ON

d; d.a.n.c.e - justice

u; untitled #6 - girlfriends

d; dogboy - yung lean

e; endless - turnstile

g; give it to me baby - rick james

e; emotion - samantha sang

n; no hands - waka flocka flame

d; disorder - mikey rotten

e; edward 40hands - mom jeans

r; reason to believe - joyce manor

username tag game !!

D: Don’t Worry Baby by The Beach Boys

A: Angel Baby by Rosie and The Originals

I: I Melt With You by Modern English

S: Same Old Situation by Mötley Crüe

Y: You Know I’m No Good by Amy Winehouse

R: Ride by Lana Del Rey

A: Asking For It by Hole

N: No One Else by Weezer

D: Dancing With Myself by Billy Idol

O: Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey

N: Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter

E: Every Man Gets His Wish by Lana Del Rey

I: In Your Room by The Bangles

S: Sleep Walk by Santo and Johnny

M: My Michelle by Guns N’ Roses

E: Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter

@harlotstarlet777 @daughterofcxin @cookiesrosedepp @wretchedlovergirl @unknownn-girl @sofiasgirls @lizzi3 @mary-katherinekane @billsbabydoll @bowiesixxter

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steve’s shorter than soda by a good like…five of six inches, and so whenever soda’s feeling playful he’ll call him dumbass per names like “mini cupcake”, “fun sized” “short stack”, or steve’s least favorite, “lil’ guy” and he gets so pissed like “IM NOT SHORT >:( i’m a stud muffin” and sodas just like “uh huh, sure, muffin”

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steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he says "soda. shoes."

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he says "what were you doing, walking by your lonesome?"

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he says "beer for breakfast? really?"

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he says "where's Superman?"

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he puts his all into the rumble for johnny

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he runs out of the house with three broken ribs

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", he stumbles forwards, about to fall if soda weren't to hold him back

steve randle doesn't say "i love you", but goddamn if he doesn't mean it

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this is SO important to me oh my god

Steve who has problems sleeping is so real to me

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IM SO AFRAID OF CONFRONTATION OR COMING OFF AS TOO MEAN BRO 😭😭

@railgunuzi @noti-mportant @sleepi-toasti @ruffled-pillow-case

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me every few minutes

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(very loosely based on Noah Kahan's Fine)

Steve has always known anger; both his own and his father’s. 

His whole life has been solely about survival. Between a father who has always craved Steve’s blood on his hands and the rich kids who are always looking for a lone greaser to jump, he has never known peace. 

While he doesn’t know peace, he does know anger. He learned to be angry when his Ma left him. Steve had cried. He cried until his father held him up by his shirt collar, screaming in his face and telling him to man up, how his Ma was a worthless woman anyways and that he’ll never cry over her again. 

He learned to be angry when he was 11, when a group of older socs drove by him and Sodapop yelling out their windows at them, calling them dirty greasers. He picked up a rock to throw, a growl on his lips, and chucked it at their car with a clink. He would���ve thrown another had Soda not stopped him. 

He learned to be angry every time his father looked in his face and saw not his son, but his own personal punching bag. A night spent at his house often meant he’d leave the next morning with new bruises or a broken nose if he was especially lucky. 

In spite of his anger, Steve had dreams of getting the hell out of Tulsa. The cash stashed under his mattress was his ticket out of this godforsaken town. He wouldn’t let his father or anyone else lie to him and tell him there was no way out, that he’ll never survive in the real world.

Because to escape Tulsa was to survive, and Steve’s whole life had been about survival.

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TEENY TINY BLOOD WARNING

some art for an alternative universe I’m making where instead of Ponyboy and Johnny, it’s Steve and Soda. Not sure if anyone else has done this before but oh well 😿😿

Steve kills a soc with a busted bottle instead of a switchblade because he held off four guys with one once! I thought that’d be a cool detail and stuff idk…

i kinda hate this uurghhshsggw

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I absolutely love the scowl you give Steve it's beautiful 😻

Excellent, I love drawing him scowling

(and these are just if you don’t count most of the ones where he’s yelling or just has resting bitch face lol)