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#she's a cool mom !!!
ice-creamforbreakfast · 11 months
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Living with parents was the perfect way to save money and guarantee a homecooked meal every night, but was it really worth it? Emilio was beginning to realise that no, it probably wasn't. 
 Hilary: Oh, I see you two are uh...having fun! I'll be in the kitchen. Do you need anything? Snacks? A Condom? Emilio: Mum!  Hilary: You look cold, Sabrina dear, but would you like me to turn the heating up? Sabrina: No thanks, Mrs Romano! Emilio: MUM!
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strawberry-nia · 1 year
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comradekatara · 3 months
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wake up sheeple !! the notion that katara is the overbearing, responsible member of the group was a lie peddled by Big Toph to distract from the fact that the actual overbearing, responsible member of the group (sokka) also happens to be her favorite.
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LOVE YOUR SCRAP BABY DESIGN
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IM SO GLAD YALL LIKED HER!!
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canisalbus · 7 months
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my mother says machete gives audrey hepburn vibes
I went to look her up, thinking "surely not", but I mean
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tittyinfinity · 5 months
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I just remembered that up until 5th grade, all of the sports teams I was in weren't separated by gender. I played basketball and baseball with boys. And we did just fine.
It wasn't until 6th grade when they segregated it by gender. It didn't make sense to me. I was now in softball because of baseball, because "softball is for girls" and "baseball is for boys" (which confused me bc my dad was on an adult softball team).
Now, my brother's all-male team didn't win a single game. My all-girls team won every single one.
They presented the boys' team with this HUGE trophy, and if you wanted replicas of it, they were $30 each.
My team was presented with a very small trophy. Extras were $5.
That's when I decided gender-segregated sports were bullshit.
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musubiki · 1 month
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danmarch 🐉💎
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raycatzdraws · 3 months
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ribbonwood
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thefreakandthehair · 4 months
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(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k
content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags
“My dad called.” 
Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction  wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now? 
It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son. 
Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust. 
Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong. 
“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself. 
“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.” 
Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight. 
“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging. 
“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!” 
His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.
“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off. 
He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can. 
But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.
“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”
Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.” 
“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks. 
“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?” 
Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.” 
He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace. 
It’s only then that Steve speaks. 
“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”
Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them. 
“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree. 
“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge. 
Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen. 
“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”
“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”
Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain. 
“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow. 
“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?” 
“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”
Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him. 
“Definitely.”
The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.
There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter. 
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laugbergine · 20 days
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Roxy for today :3
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vaggie, miss "im not used to fighting with long hair" who's out of practice actually battling someone or really stabbing ppl...
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...still had the arm and hand strength, the REFLEXES, to do a bare handed blade catch on a SWORD, who's user had been doing an aerial dive with it aimed at vaggie's FACE
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then sling around and THROW her opponent with it
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i know she wants a peaceful-ish life with charlie, but i really wouldn't mind seeing her getting into just a FEW more fights >:D
also also side note: carmilla was able to eff her up earlier so easily bc vaggie fought like an exorcist, no thought to getting hurt or personal defense, the headspace of 'i can't get killed! wheee! DIE DIE DIE' that got that other exorcist killed
and the main advice vaggie got from carmilla was take advantage of that sure, but first and more importantly, defend yourself better
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which kinda plays into the whole "be out for love thing" too
aka the fight isn't important, it's what you're fighting to still have Afterwards that matters- the people you love, having a life with them
(the hotel, the hazbins, charlie)
carmilla doesn't send vaggie off with a 'you're ready to go kill angels'. she's only satisfied and ends their little lesson / sparring match when she can say "you might just survive this"
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feels like she wasn't teaching vaggie to take out angels. she was reminding her and showing her how NOT to get KILLED
so it's just so nice seeing vaggie blocking, dodging, and grappling lute later. how good she is at focusing on avoiding or neutralizing those attacks aimed at her. how Seriously she takes them
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binding lute's both lute's arms and wedging them into her own body so lute's sword CAN'T be angled towards her
the way this shot emphasis's the THREAT of the sword hanging over vaggie
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and how her flash-fast recovery and block shows she's READY for it
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dodging, not attacking
she's not in this for blood or vengeance, this lady is trying to stay the fuck alive. she's got things and people to live for
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things like the idea of mercy. that thing both her and charlie show their enemies, people who came down to hell for murder and spent this fight trying to kill them and got damn close to doing it.
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and sure there's a pretty big tone difference between charlie's "Whoa whoa dad. He's had enough" and vaggie's "No, live. Live knowing that you only do because I let you" but both end at the same place, with someone who hates them still getting a second chance
(UNLESS ITS NIFFTY WITH THE ANGELIC BLAAADE)
and vaggie wants that second chance too. she wants a life with charlie, and fights hard so she can stick around for it
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epic fail, lute... have you considered getting a hobby...?
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lyss-butterscotch · 8 months
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Yall seem to like Herrah alot so have some herrah doodles
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inkskinned · 1 year
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this is sort of pathetic, but when you were younger, you were sort of puzzled by the cartoon representations of fathers: how a kid would be outside with a mitt, waiting to play catch.
it's not that your father never played catch with you, but you also didn't like when he did. something about a hard ball coming quickly towards your face doesn't seem exciting. not that you'd ever say you don't trust him. you trust him, right?
it's not like he never tried to teach you anything. or never tried to parent. on rare days, a strange person would walk in your father's skin. bright, happy, magnificent. this version of your father was so cheerful and charismatic that you would do anything to keep him. and this is the version of your father that would laugh and gently coax you try again. this is the version of your father that would break down the small elements of a problem and point them out so you have an easier time with them.
as a kid, those days happened more often. but somewhere around 11, you started being too much of a person, and he was often cross about it. when he'd try to sit you down to learn something, you spent the whole time with your shoulders around your ears, nervous, uncertain. terrified because you didn't immediately understand how to navigate something. worried you will run out of his goodwill and then you will have the Other Father back, and you will have ruined a good day for your entire family. something about you being visibly afraid - it just made him angry. he would accuse you of not wanting to learn and storm away.
on tv, it's not like there's a lot of versions of men-who-are-mostly-fathers. they can be good dads, but usually their stories are not told in the household. so it's normal that your father is there, but he's never around. you know he was in the house, somewhere, it's just not that you guys ever... "hung out". he just seemed to get kind of bored of you, annoyed you weren't made in his perfect image. frustrated with how much energy it took to raise a kid. over time, you kind of adopt a bittersweet band around your throat - he knows nothing about me. he says at least i never abandoned my family.
and it's technically - technically - true. he was there for you. sometimes he even made an effort and made it to the big moments; the graduations and the dance recitals. he grins and tells everyone that he taught you. it almost erases the days in between, where he complains because you need a ride to school. the weeks that go by where he doesn't actually ever speak to you. the times you say i am struggling and he says figure it out on your own. i can't help you.
and that's fine! that's all fine. you can call him if you are having a problem with your car. or if you need a ride to the hospital. he loves playing hero, he just doesn't like the actual work that comes with being a father. and you've kind of made your peace with that; because you had to, because you don't want to live your life like he does; the whole world at a managed distance, a little rotating and controlled orb he can witness and take credit for but never truly love.
as an adult, you are rewatching some dumb cartoon - and again, the child standing in the rain, with a mitt, waiting for their father to come play catch. as an adult, there's this strange creeping dread - this little thing? this little thing, and their dad can't even show up for that? oh god, holyshit, it's not about the mitt, is it. oh god, holyshit, your father spent most of your life leaving you hanging.
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florallylly · 3 months
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i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington
note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(
bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.
so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.
but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.
he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.
a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.
and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.
apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.
and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.
his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.
so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.
but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.
but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.
steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."
and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.
and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.
but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.
and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.
and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.
through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.
but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.
and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.
even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.
but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.
the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.
this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.
but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.
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sillyfudgemonkeys · 17 days
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How I've seen most people write Rangi coming out to her mom:
Rangi: Mom, I have something to tell you.
Hei-Ran: Go on.
Rangi: Kyoshi and I.....are.....together.
Hei-Ran: Oh I'm so happy for you.
*they hug it out, much wholesome*
How I think the coming out scene went:
Rangi: Mother. I need to tell you something, Kyoshi and I are together.
Hei-Ran: Oh thank the spirits. It finally happened.
Rangi: ???? You knew????
Hei-Ran: Sweetie, everyone in the mansion-no, all of Yokoya knew about it! Well except for Kyoshi.
Rangi: ????!! WHAT?!
Hei-Ran: I'm pretty sure Jianzhu thought you were dating, that's probably why he kidnapped you, you know?
Rangi: WH-HOW?!
Hei-Ran: Oh please, we saw your gay little ass running all over the damn mansion just to be near Kyoshi and to impress her. We were mute, not blind and deaf!
Rangi, having a crisis: I-wha-but-
Hei-Ran: Well, you aren't very good at hiding your emotions sweetie.
Rangi, flipping a nearby table: The fuck you mean I'm not?????!
Hei-Ran: Oh curses, go get Atuat, I owe her $5.
Rangi: YOU BETTED ON THIS????? WITH YOUR DOCTOR?????
Hei-Ran: Well Kelsang is dead, so I had to keep our bet alive somehow.
Rangi: I-*inhales* YOu know what? Doesn't matter! Do you accept Kyoshi or not?
Hei-Ran: Anybody who gives my girl that much cardio is 100% welcome into our family. In fact, I already added her to our family registry 2 years ago. As far as the Fire Nation is concerned, you two have been married for a while.
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thetetra · 5 months
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instagram
So my friend runs this Instagram account and it features her two cats Choco (pictured) and Milko with guest star appearances by her daughter(also pictured).
Milko is in poor health and the vet bills are an ever present pressure on her life.
So if you could like and comment or possibly follow her cats account to help the Zucc Bucks pay the bills around the holidays that'd be super cool of you.
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