strangerlovlies
the lovlies' home
ali she/they i have some opinions
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Dame más de tu veneno, de tu vida loca
Tu parsimonia al caminar
Dame más de los secretos de tu boca
Que no se pueden pronunciar
- “Desde las alturas”, Guitarricadelafuente
I was listening to this beautiful song and I couldn’t help thinking of Billy. The same with “Nana triste”, which resonates Steve too tbh…
If y’all are interested in print versions of this, let me know! Considering opening a print shop AND commissions soon when I have consistent wifi! Lyrics are translated in the comments!
please do not repost my art without my permission!
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Stevolution. He went through a lot
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VS 2020 VERSION
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Another commission piece for the second chapter of Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea by @platypanthewriter!! Please go check out their story it is very good and I really enjoyed working on this piece <3
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More ghost Billy. Based off the thing I wrote in the last post..
I have a playlist for them ahahshsv https://open.spotify.com/playlist/77nNsK3jWLGNl1oo05olnl?si=8sVi6nKPQ5u-zcr5wqy03g
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it’s red dead steve but this time it’s a rich boy yeehaw
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(Cinema date) they all are at Back To The Future premiere 🤧💖
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SWEATY MAN BUN SHIRTLESS BOOTY SHORTS BILLY BARKBARKBARK
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been lookin' for a substitution
but there ain't no one replacing you 👑
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And it was the best forehead kiss (with tongue) Steve has ever had 🥰
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Some merfolk WIPS (let's pretend I didn't miss the entire MerMay...)
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So billy is in AA, quit drinking and is working on cutting back on cigs too. He sure as shit ain't in therapy, alright? But his sponsor is pretty cool, pretty smart. He always comes in with his ugly beanies, like truly, torn up and ugly ass beanies on his head, different colors and textures and Billy figures it's just this old guy's style. Til one day they get to talking about smoking and altering an ingrained habit and shit. His sponsor brings up crocheting.
Billy didn't know what the fuck crochet was. Like knitting? But with a single stick with a hook on it? Like grandma's do?
No.
But his sponsor keeps talking about it and talks about his hats. His ugly beanies and how his nephew makes them when he starts biting at the bit for a smoke. How crochet doesn't have to be good and it doesn't have to be shared, it's this single-minded task for one set of hands and that's it. So the next week he brings in yarn and a crochet stick.
Hook. Whatever.
And that's the day billy learned how to crochet. Kinda. He started with rows, a string of ten and then figuring out how to turn it and stack another ten on it, rows on rows. He does it with the yarn his sponsor brought, this weird reddish-brown color with some dried stains on it. Pasta, maybe.
Every time he wanted to smoke, pats down his pockets for a pack and wipes his mouth with his fingers, feels sweat on his brow and he's yelling at nothing, everything, he crochets. In this way, he made a scarf in two days.
Calling it a scarf is pretty generous, really. It's a fucking mess. One end curls in like a toilet roll and the other tapered off into just two stitches. There's a few holes and bunched up knots and the color, fuck. But it's a long thing made of (mostly) ten stitches across and he's calling it a fucking scarf.
This is how Steve finds him. Sitting on the patio of their third story apartment with his legs swinging between the rails, holding this ugly thing in his hands where his cigarettes should be.
"What's that?" Steve asks. Billy barely looks at him over his shoulder, chewing on his thumbnail and kicking his feet.
"What the fucks it look like?" He snaps, then thrusts it out. "It's for you."
Steve takes it and blinks twice. He tilts his head to the side as the thing rolls out to reveal itself. "It's a scarf," he says.
Billy scoffs. Drums his fingers on the rail before he looks up at Steve. He watches in disgusted fascination as Steve wraps the ugly thing twice around his neck. As Steve adjusts the ends to hang at the same length and fluff the thing up. As Steve looks down at it and swishes it side to side and grins. Steve grins with all his teeth and his eyes crinkled up, eyes bright with something billy realizes he hasn't seen in way too long.
It looks horrible. It makes Steve look like trash. Robin will rag on his ugly neckwear all day. All year, probably. And Steve is smiling at billy like he just gave him the sun.
"Whatever," Billy says. Steve's joy doesn't falter. He flips the tiny tapered end of the scarf over his shoulder and goes back inside. Billy hears him humming.
So crochet isn't so bad. Billy might even be able to make another thing, if Steve wants it. The dumbass.
Billy shakes his head. He stands up, stretches his arms over his head and yells into the house, "It looks fucking ugly Steve!"
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They said Happy Valentines Day
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