#how Italian of her

[anthrofreshtodeath]

18. Hello/goodbye hugs that linger. Good hugs are just 🤗 Maaaybe combined with 25. Finding comfort in their scent?

I chose 18 - here we go!

___

Maura flashes her Chief Medical Examiner’s badge to the sheriff’s deputy sitting at the front desk in this small station just outside of Holyoke. It’s late. One or two in the morning late. And the only reason that the lanky young man even looks in her direction is because her jurisdiction covers the entire commonwealth, even all the way out here in Hampden County, and she’s wearing more designer than he’s probably ever seen in his life. 

Her hair’s done up, her eyes boast the smokiest shadow they’ve had since the last wedding she attended, and her dress’s neckline doesn’t even pretend to be modest. That’s where his eyes land when he nods to her and opens the side door that will lead them to the back of the building, where the drunk tank resides.

She approaches, heels authoritative on the linoleum, and nods to him when she gets to the door. “Thank you, Deputy… Healy,” she tells him, and she means it. He tips his hat to her with one hand on his kit belt, then tosses his head in the direction they’ll be going.

“No problem, Doc,” he says, those Western Mass vowels coming through. They have to walk through mahogany desk bullpens and past interrogation rooms that look like they haven’t been updated since the seventies. “Long night?” he asks simply to avoid passing the time in silence.

He must be half a foot taller than Maura, at least, and she stares at his back as they walk. She folds her jacket over her clasped hands, the ones in front of her hips, and shrugs even though he can’t see her. “A wedding,” she answers. “For a colleague in the drug control unit. As you saw, things got a little… out of hand,” she makes sure to name-drop BPD to help their case in any way possible.

Healy laughs. “Yeah well, let’s just say I don’t think the guy they popped is gonna be pressing charges,” he says to her. “Just around this corner.”

Sure enough, when they turn, the one cell in the middle of the floor, with two wooden benches and bars all around, comes into plain view. In it is Jane, in a black suit and her best silk white shirt, all dotted with blood. Could be her own, could be someone else’s.

Could belong to the man next to her: Rafael Martinez, the groom of the evening. He certainly looks happy now, a huge grin on his face despite the fact that he’s currently spending his wedding night in jail. “Hey, Doc! You made it. Thank god,” he exclaims. He stands up and claps once, rubbing his palms together in victory. 

Maura shakes her head when Healy fiddles with the keys until he finds the right one. “Maria is not happy. She’s outside, by the way. They only let her in the waiting area because I happen to be the Chief Medical Examiner of the entire Commonwealth. The Commonwealth,” she admonishes him. 

As soon as the bars swing open, Rafael is out. He grabs Maura and kisses the side of her face roughly. He is annoying, but endearing. “Ah, she’ll understand. I don’t know why she decided to invite her sleazeball ex anyway. But that’ll teach him to try and sabotage the next wedding he goes to, eh?” Rafael looks back at Jane, who hasn’t gotten up and hangs her head. When she looks at him because he’s paused, he takes his bruised fist and swings it through the air in slow motion. “Pow. You still got it, Rizzoli. Now excuse me. I gotta go find my wife.”

“Deputy Healy?” Maura asks once Rafael has turned the corner, “would you give Detective Rizzoli and I a moment?” Again, maybe emphasizing the fact that everyone in the drunk tank is law enforcement lessens their consequences. She tries.

Healy seems to be convinced, however, that there won’t be any. “Sure thing, Doc. I’ll be out front so we can process paperwork when you’re ready.”

“Of course,” she says. She waits until he leaves, until his utility boots squeak further and further down the hall, to step into the cell. 

“Never been so happy to see you,” Jane sighs, finally standing. She hurts, that Maura can see: bruised ribs, a barking shoulder, and a scraped knee, all in addition to the angry red circle on the side of her mouth, a small but deep cut in her lip. 

“Except for when you nearly drowned in the Atlantic Ocean?” snarks Maura. “I leave for five minutes…” Her consternation is mixed with a little bit of happiness and pride.

“Excuse me, more like fifteen minutes at least,” Jane retorts. She comes as close as their bodies will allow without touching. “And Maria’s not my favorite person but she’s good for Rafa. I wasn’t gonna let some bozo mess it up.”

“So you punched him?” Maura raises a suspicious brow.

“Rafa punched him! After he threw a drink in my face,” Jane shouts, then quiets. “I didn’t start it. You know I never start things.”

“Yes well, you always finish them. Even when sometimes they should be left unfinished. When I came to see what all the commotion was about, the three of you were tussling in the bushes! I know the family that owns that property, Jane. Personally,” Maura says. She doesn’t pull away, though. And she smirks when she smells that spilled whisky all over Jane’s front, combined with dirt and Jane’s perfume. 

Jane senses the game, she must, because then she smiles, too. “You haven’t hugged me yet,” she tells Maura, with a theatrically jutted lower lip, “aren’t you happy I’m ok?”

“I’d be happier if you weren’t possibly facing charges,” Maura says in resistance. 

Jane plays up her position by placing a tired hand on Maura’s shoulder. Maura shivers when skin touches skin, even if it’s just a sliver or so. “He won’t, if he knows what’s good for him,” Jane growls.

“It’s his right,” Maura counters. 

“Maura.”

“Yes, Jane?”

“Just hug me.”

So Maura does. Jane is taller and broader and in pain, but somehow Maura folds the detective into her embrace just right. They aren’t together, not yet - though this feels like they will be, very soon, because Jane’s head rests on her shoulder and Jane’s hands spread wide one above the other on her back. One of those hands creeps up to the nape of Maura’s neck, possessing her, lingering closer, longer than a hug hello between friends. 

Jane breathes, then Maura does. Jane sinks, and Maura holds her up. “Let’s go home?”

Jane doesn’t say to Maura that they have separate homes, because she doesn’t have to. She just says, “Ok. First we got a date with Healy, though, yeah?”

“A date I’ll accept. With Healy, however? Not so much,” Maura scrunches her nose, but holds out her arm for Jane to take.

Jane does and they amble toward the bullpen and then the exit. “If not with Healy then with who?”

“Whom,” Maura corrects, and she leaves it at that. She makes sure to wink when Jane looks her way, however.

[florallylly]

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.

[ineed-to-sleep]

Well you see they're just very good friends

[tybaltsjuliet]

fake disney remakes by year: snow white, 1937

blanche snow has been bringing a smile and a song to a depressed america since she was a child. gracious to a fault and sweet as pie, she’s adored by her audiences, her co-stars, and her studio alike. even the gossip columnist flo prince, whose pen is as a dagger in the hearts of leading players and studio execs everywhere, can’t help but love her.

but there’s one person who doesn’t appreciate seeing blanche’s face beaming out at her from a magazine or a poster: her stepmother, hildy la verne. once upon a time, hildy was the uncontested queen of the silver screen, but the talkies cramped her over-the-top style, and the studios got tired of hushing up her scandals - like the mysterious death of her last husband.

when blanche is cast in a sound remake of one of hildy’s old films, she hits her breaking point. she doesn’t believe blanche when she swears that she tried to talk the studio out of it, and what was once an ordinary dislike of the girl turns into pure poison.

hildy hires the gangster “doc” diamante to get rid of blanche for good, promising a queen’s ransom for getting the job done. but doc and his fellas aren’t nearly as bad as they’d like people to think they are - and they love blanche’s movies. so it’s not difficult for her to come out the other side with seven new bodyguards and a safe place to hide from her stepmother.

meanwhile, blanche’s disappearance has become the talk of hollywood. flo is convinced that hildy was involved, and he’s determined not to let her get away with it... but she’s proving a lot more dangerous than he thought she was.

feat. rachel zegler as blanche snow, freddy carter as flo prince, jessica chastain as hildy la verne, and steve buscemi as “doc” diamante.

[blondie-drawings]

My headcanon is that Ianthe dresses like an annoying ass tiktok influencer who's trying to sell you something. Also I didn't draw her skeleton arm because I am. Um. Lazy.

[floralcrematorium]

i think alfred can very much be a pizza snob considering the regional battle for pizza superiority (new jersey/new york style pizza cough), but i think he ruins it by dousing it in ranch dressing

lovino looks on in horror

questioning everything he thought he knew and loved about this man when alfred breaks out the hidden valley ranch

[mayasdeluca]

My reaction when Carina said goodnight to Maya in Italian and she responded with ‘Okay’

[hella1975]

all hate to tiktok for taking 'having a space to more openly and actively talk about different cultures' to mean 'cultures are NOT to be shared and we must be vigilantly defensive of our cultures for fear of appropriation, a word that can be applied to any multicultural interaction'. like of course cultural appropriation is a very real problem but ive seen with the access to global multicultural conversation that tiktok provides it's made people TERRIFIED to even interact with cultures other than their own for fear of 'doing it wrong'. like at some point you have to acknowledge that in the real world of the great outdoors, the majority of people are eager to SHARE their cultures. yes there are ignorant questions and biases but also... how do you think those things get unlearnt? i dont understand how deciding that multiculturalism is an elephant in the room instead of a normal thing that should just be talked about and lived with is supposed to benefit anyone? and kids on tiktok are CONVINCED that it's a time bomb of a conversation to have and therefore must be avoided at all costs but like. people generally LOVE their home and their culture and are PROUD of it and want to share it. how have we made it so that showing genuine interest and a desire to understand something so integral to a person's identity is now feared and borderline demonised?

[werebutch]

i wish i had someone to teach me how to cook.. and SHOP especially. i hope to be confident enough soon that i can think up dishes based on whats on sale and in season, but right now i still rely solely on picking random dishes beforehand and sticking to my list lol whioich is definitely normal i just wish i could go that extra mile..IDK...i want to saev monayyyyy grins

[gealach-edits]

Charlene Guignard & Marco Fabbri, “The Theory of Everything” FD || World Championships 2024

[white-cat-of-doom]

Cristina La Gioia made her Tantomile cover debut yesterday in Milan! Congratulations Cristina!

With Michele Balzano as Coricopat; 15 December 2023.

[avocadosockz]

petition to let robin ramble in other languages and nancy gay panic over it

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Jasmine and Nick: (Have gotten into an argument over Jas being reckless)

Jasmine: (Stamps her foot) “BUT DAD THATS NOT FAIR!!! YOU ARE BEING A JERK!!!”

Nick: (Patiently) “Jazzy, my word is final. Now go to your room to cool off that haughty attitude of yours.”

Jasmine: (Angsty teenage growls as she whirls around and storms off to the cabinets, reaching in for a box)

Nick: (Crosses his arms) “Jasmine- I said go to your room!”

Jasmine: (Takes the spaghetti noodles from the box and pours it into her hand, glaring over her shoulder at her father)

Nick: (Wags a finger at his daughter) “Don’t you dare-….”

Jasmine: (Snaps all of the spaghetti noodles in half while looking Nick dead in the eye)

Nick: (Bangs on his desk, rising from his chair) “NOW YOU’VE CROSSED THE LINE, MISSY.”

Ellie Perkins: (Sips her coffee) “Oh the joys of parenthood….”

[glitterock]

fun little update we just got lunch together im so GIDDY

[brother-emperors]

I was looking at all the Pietro della Vigna conversation illustrations the other day and felt compelled to draw a whole bunch of lines because this canto has been rattling around in my head for 10 years now and oh man, Gustave Doré knows how to make an illustration that'll set my brain on fire

Dante's Divine Comedy (Inferno, Canto 13), trans. Robert M. Durling + the section notes for context

society6 | ko-fi | redbubble | twitter (pillowfort, mastodon) | deviantart

[athina-blaine]

while watching nimona, my friends and I got into a huge argument about how they could have scottie terriers with no scotland and jazz with no harlem renaissance so now I too just like to drop explicit references to real world things in my fic that have 0% justification being there in the first place and i feel like the funniest mfer alive