cherry valley forever
Show & Tell
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

@theartofmadeline
Cosimo Galluzzi

Love Begins
almost home
we're not kids anymore.

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Stranger Things

★
sheepfilms


Kaledo Art
DEAR READER
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
noise dept.
h

Origami Around
KIROKAZE
seen from Uzbekistan

seen from Türkiye
seen from Ukraine
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seen from Martinique
seen from Morocco
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seen from Bangladesh
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seen from Argentina
seen from United States
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seen from Germany
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seen from Finland

seen from Germany

seen from United States
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@stevicari

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She didn’t need a protector or a rescuer. But she did need him.
Alexandra Bracken, Passenger (via quoted-books)
Milo Ventimiglia as Jack Pearson ↳ This is Us 3.05 “Toby”
lucy.
starter for @stevicari
Since their little run in at Butter hadn’t gone terribly, Lucy had decided to take it upon herself to re-establish her relationship with Steve. He needed a friend right now and Lucy was more than happy to be that for him. Not to mention, she missed having him in her life. So, she did what Lucy knew how to do best. She showed up at his door with two bottles of wine. She rang the doorbell expectantly, and when he eventually opened she offered him a smile. “Red or white?” she asked, holding out the bottles for him to choose.
It was funny. The second Steve had decided to step back in the ring, a secret he was keeping from everyone but Jamie. The people he had been avoiding and shutting out of his life for the last few months - after what happened to Alessia - were all of a sudden crawling out of the woodwork. The irony of life, like he was being tested. Steve already felt ashamed enough that had resorted to this way of life again but now he had people unlike before, people that with one loo made guilt bubble in the pit of his stomach. If they knew he was working with low life gangsters as an illegal fighter, they would be disgusted in him but when you had lived on the street once before the threat of it happening again would drive you to do anything. He was preparing to go to the gym having healed up some from his previous fight, just a few cuts here or there but fit to train, when he heard his door. Living this life he was always on edge as to whom might be on the other side of that piece of wood but one look in the peephole and he relaxed, a heavy sigh leaving him.
“Luce, you scared me!” Steve laughed as he opened the door to greet her. “You know I’m not really a wine guy but I also don’t complain --- I’ll take whichever has the higher alcohol content,” he joked walking to the small kitchen to grab them both a glass. Of course, he didn’t have anything fancy, some glasses he had taken from the bar down the street. “Will these do?” He asked with a shrug, blowing some dust from inside. “Sorry, I wasn’t really expecting guests,” he mumbled looking around at the mess of his apartment, then back to the dusty glass he was holding out for her.

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@alessialacroix
send me a # to learn an unusual hc about my muse!
bonus points if you ask me to randomize it !
what’s your muse’s favorite album of all time / favorite artist?
how do they listen to their music? ipod, mp3, computer, cd, records, etc?
do they take baths or showers? do they prefer one over the other?
do they wear their hair down when they sleep, or tied up / braided?
how many blankets / pillows do they like to have on their bed?
what do they normally dream about? nightmares or nonsense?
do they wake up groggy or alert? do they like mornings?
what do they sleep in? pj’s, normal clothes, nothing?
what do they smell like? do they use perfume or cologne?
what shampoo scent do they like the best and why?
bar soap or liquid? do they like loofahs?
do they prefer sleeping alone or with someone else?
do they like the room cold or hot when they sleep?
do they stay up too late? do they like staying up?
do they know how to drive? do they like to drive?
do they prefer taxis / buses / subways, etc? or none of the above?
do they have pets? what kind? dogs, cats, etc?
do they prefer cats or dogs? or neither?
what are their phobias? do they have any at all?
what do they hate being teased about? are they teased often?
did they have any fears growing up that they’ve since conquered?
do they have a fear they want to conquer, but haven’t yet?
how do they show fear? sweating, shaking, blankness, anger, etc?
do they have a short temper? what’s most likely to set it off?
do they get scared easily? does loud noises, shouting, etc, scare them?
what are they most passionate about? what could they debate about for hours?
what do they never, ever want to speak of, ever?
do they have kids? do they want kids? if so, how many?
is there something they’d like to change about themselves physically?
is there something about their personality they want to change?
do they have good fashion sense? or do they just wear whatever?
do they critique others easily? do they judge from afar?
are they too hard on themselves over the little things?
are they the jealous type? what are they most likely to be jealous of?
are they possessive over their things? or over other people? both?
would they rather be alone or in a relationship?
what do they think about polyamorous relationships? would they do it?
do they have parents / parental figures? do they have a good relationship with them?
do they have siblings? if so, how many? do they like them?
do they have a big family or a small family? no family?
where would they want to live if they could live anywhere? why?
are they happy in their current living situation? why or why not?
do they like living alone or with another person / other people?
did they go to college, or are they attending? did / do they like it?
what’s their dream job / profession? do they have one?
if they could control one thing in the world, what would it be?
do they like tv shows or movies? or neither?
do they have social media? do they like it or hate it? obsess over it?
do they have a creative outlet? if so, what is it?
where do they see themselves in 2 / 5 / 10 years?
maverick.
“I’m not saying I’m high….but if I was high…do you know where I live? I can’t even remember the passcode to my phone. I knew I should’ve set up the fingerprint thing. But you know…the government can control you better if they have your fingerprints on file…”
Steve recognised the younger man from somewhere a feeling that made him somewhat protective of his pot smoking ass, smiling as he rambled. “Can’t say I do, buddy but have you got some ID on you with your address or you know, you could call someone on your cell?” The older male laughed as the kid in front of him continued. “Oh for sure. Why you think I still carry this fossil around?” Steve asked as he showed the familiar face his old Motorola flip phone. “It’s not ‘cause I like the drama of the flip --- better staying off that grid or the feds will be all up in your shit, right?”

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— outgoing message: stevie.
Nadia: From the fight? How bad is it?
Nadia: I told you that you're too old to be doing this shit still Steve. Quit again.
Nadia: If you really need money just nanny with me. We both know thirsty upper east side moms would fight to hire you.
Steve: I've had worse.
Steve: It pays good...I'm fine. Relax.
Steve: I think I'd rather be punched in the face that deal with upper eastside soccer moms.
alessia.
incoming starter for @stevicari
There was no denying she looked conspicuous standing in the shadows of her old apartment complex…..barefoot and clearly tipsy in the middle of the night. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Alessia could have gotten in on her own, she still had the set of keys she must have packed it on accident during her move out. Or he’d slipped them in a box while she wasn’t looking on the off chance she ever decided to come back. Regardless, the brunette hardly felt comfortable using them. Which led her to her current situation, standing below a window she hoped belonged to the man she used to love with a fistful of pebbles in her hands.
“Steve.” Alessia called tossing yet another rock towards the third story window. “Steve, Steeeeve, how many rocks am I gonna have to throw to get you—FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THERE IS NO STEVE HERE. TAKE YOUR RELATIONSHIP DRAMA ELSEWHERE YOU DAMN MILLENNIAL!” Shit.
Since the fight, Steve had been hiding from his friends licking his wounds behind closed doors where no one would give him a lecture for being stupid enough to go back to those gangsters. People in this city didn’t seem to understand poverty and what the fear of being back on the streets made someone do. Being punched in the face was a lot easier than what some out there had to resort to, so for that Steve was thankful. It didn’t stop him from feeling sorry for himself and comforting himself with the largest bottle of bourbon he could find. That was all the company Steve needed.
Rambo happened to be on the TV and Steve was eating some pizza as he sipped his bottle, a little tipsy and half dozing on the couch. Sylvester Stallone was mid killing some bad dude when Steve heard his neighbor yelling, probably her drunk of a boyfriend Steve had to throw out a few weeks ago because he had lifted his hand one time too many. He shuffled to the window and was ready to yell himself when he saw who it was, sitting against the frame to watch her for a little bit wondering why she was here of all places.
“Hey! Leave it, Mags,” he yelled to his neighbor, voice hoarse from a mixture of alcohol and having just been half asleep. “She’s with me,” he added trying to calm the older lady. He heard the slam of the window causing him to chuckle, smiling down at Alessia. “You’re crazy, lady. No one fucks with Mags,” he teased her, dark brown eyes bright with the longing she stirred in him. The last person he expected at his door was his ex-fiancé, not when there was a party to be attending. “What are you doing in this part of town at this time of night, huh?”
— outgoing message: stevie.
Nadia: I know weddings are a very sensitive topic for you right now but
Nadia: I can't believe you refused to come with.
Steve: I don't think this mug is wedding appropriate currently.
who gave you the right
tj.
“I’m just gonna come out and say it. Yeah man, that looks bad. Like, not good, terribly, bad.”
Just as he had expected, the goons who were running the fight had figured it was prime opportunity to teach Steve never to fuck with them. Sure, he still won and he still got his money but tired and weak, they had got him on his own and beat him to a pulp in alley way just outside the club. “Look, do you know someone who can fix me up? I can’t afford to go to hospital. I don’t have any insurance and you know they’ll start asking questions too.”

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jamie.
"Please do,“ Jamie countered as he tore apart his own piece of bread. “But if we get banned from Roberta’s as a result you can’t blame me.” He contemplated repeating the topic of discussion before his company decided to admit he wasn’t listening but it didn’t seem important enough to repeat. It may have been a while since Steve’s last fight but he knew how these things went. “I was just told by Adam to remind you the fight’s happening at 11:55 instead of ten since your fight’s been moved up to the main event. Try not to lose okay, I’ve got like five hundred on you coming out the victor.”
“You want a show, you gotta’ pay, pal.” Steve teased as he swallowed down his pasta with a gulp of beer. “Please, Roberta loves me. I’m her ‘nipote’ why else do you think she gives us an extra bread basket? This face,” Steve continued with a smug grin, the conversation helping to distract him from what lay ahead. Of course that didn’t last long. “Main event? That’s a lot of pressure. Why do they think a guy who hasn’t fought in years is the star attraction? Because he can take a good beating, is that?” Steve was chuckling but the news had his mind racing. He didn’t trust any of these guys and the sudden change in plans had him wondering what was really up. It wouldn’t be too far fetched to think that they might fuck him over for bailing all those years ago, put him in his place but at least Jamie was around this time. He trusted Jamie. “Five hundred? What the fuck? If I win, you are giving me a cut off that.”
— the knick, manhattan with @xavierlcheart
The fight night was fast approaching and Steve found himself in some seedy men’s only social club, packed with men who all had too much money to know what to do with it. Little the performing monkey he was, he was here to meet the puppet master, the man whose bidding he would do just for some scraps from his table. A face in the crowd pulled his attention as he waited, a beer in hand as everyone else around him swam in champagne. He didn’t know why the other male rang a bell but his gut was telling him not to make himself known, a bad feeling about the guy.