The Shepard Siblings! Thinking Of Drawing The Curtis’s Next

Helen of Troy

Guys please talk about Palestinian prisoners’ day. It feels like everyone has gone full mask off and just stopped bringing attention to this entirely - but a lot of detainees you advocated for one year ago are still detained today. Still facing the same conditions of squalor & torture & being indefinitely separated from their loved ones. The stats on Palestinian detainees are still as bad as they’ve ever been. Please talk about it

Baby girl

shawty

carpe diem but if I do one thing outside my comfort zone I WILL cry

Idk, drawings of Pony and Darry from their yearbooks when they graduated??? Didn’t draw soda bc he did graduate (I lost motivation)

WAHH THIS IS SO GOOD WHATTTT

we got the terrorizing Shepard anon revealed.. And Lolly's true design,,, finally drew her again but with the Canon design! (the first image is the old one, idk what happened to it..)

I LOVE THE WQY U DRAW, PERSON WHO LOVES HURTING THE SHEPARDS!!! I ADORE IT!!!!!!!!!!

LOLLY my DARLIN. APUGH. I love EVERY DESIGN FOR HER. they're EVERYTHIN to me AGH!! startin a collection. my BABIES. my KIDS. HER HAIR N HER LIL SHOES AOUGHHH SHES SO CUTE

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ponyboy (pre trauma edition)

i can’t believe the outsiders got me out of art block but anyway

i like to imagine he has pretty long eyelashes and gets insecure ab them whenever someone points them out

8.19.23

steve randle died on a tuesday, his father’s fist red with his blood. he died in a house he never belonged in, with a man he wished he could hate.

sodapop curtis cried for the whole tuesday, wednesday. then on thursday he was silent, friday he punched darry in the chest over and over to stop the aching in his lungs. saturday he screamed and threw all the plates in the cupboard on the floor, sunday he hugged ponyboy so tight he couldn’t breathe.

it was like life pressed fast forward, until the day of the funeral. on the day of the funeral sodapop curtis drank half a bottle of vodka and chugged as many beers as he could before he threw up. on the day of the funeral he bought as much candy as he could with the pitiful amount he had in his wallet and ate until his sugar crash finally hit. anything to stop that pain in his bones that dragged throughout his body on repeat.

at the funeral he sobbed, fixing steve’s hair the way he would’ve wanted, slipping a dime into his pocket and placing his hand over his heart. he still had a black eye and a busted up lip from his dad, but that’s what made it all the more real.

steve randle died on a tuesday in june, his car sat out in the lot until a thursday in december. it was wrecked by then, mouldy and missing parts- stolen by thieves and starving children. the classic story of the east side.

he died on a tuesday morning and was found dead in the afternoon, bled out over the carpet. staining it for life, the thick smell of pennies filling the air for the rest of eternity.