#Traffic Lawyers New York

[mrs-potatohead-sims]

New York Traffic Ticket Lawyers | NYC Traffic Lawyer | NY Traffic Lawyer | NYC Traffic Attorney. If you’ve been pulled over by NYPD or a State Trooper

You may be trying to decide if you should plead guilty, pay the fine and move on with your life, OR if you should hire an attorney and fight the ticket.

One of the most common questions we hear is, “Isn’t hiring an attorney too expensive?”

Call me with all of the details pertaining to your case and I’ll tell you if hiring an attorney is worth your time and money.

Just pleading guilty is not always the right choice.

It’s often the case that I am able to negotiate a reduction to a non point violation, AND the court will not require you to appear if you authorize me to handle this matter in your absence.

You may be able to avoid increased insurance rates, suspension of your license, fines, and other assessments.

If you’d like to discuss your options and find out what makes the most sense in your case then call us now for a free consultation.

[authorajalexander]

Seeking Legal Help? Find It Here!

I’m generally a person who keeps certain things private and doesn’t talk about them much. Also, I’m not one to scream recommendations into the Northern Hemisphere, but today I’m making an exception for a good reason! A few years back, I needed legal help in a matter that was both humiliating and embarrassing at the same time. I knew that without the help of an attorney, I wouldn’t get…

[calumfmu]

hoping everything bends

Divorce Lawyer!Steve x Reader (based off this request)

You didn't plan on meeting him that day. It was an accident really. A mistake that should've had you fleeing from the door, but the second you laid your eyes on him, you knew this was an opportunity you couldn't pass up. (2.9k+ words)

cw: 18+, mdni, smut, p in v, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, rough sex, older!Steve, mean!Steve (in the best way possible), age gap (mid-twenties reader),

soon to be one of my favorite fics that i've started, thank you to the original anon who requested it! title is based off of cable management by violets crush, i've taken some inspiration from the lyrics for the pov for reader. so check it out <3

You didn't plan on meeting him that day. It was an accident really. Rushing into the office, you tripped over the high Louboutin's on your feet, stumbling over nothing as you reached down to adjust them. You repeatedly pressed the open door button on the elevator, cursing as it took its sweet time opening. You were running about fifteen minutes behind, waking up from a drunken slumber about 45 minutes ago, New York City traffic betraying you as always.

A receptionist looked up at you through her small frames, grimacing slightly--something you had assumed was to be a smile.

Giving her your last name, you patted your ring finger against the gloss of your lips.

"Twelve o'clock?" She confirmed, typing away at the monstrous computer in front of her. You nodded, straightening up as she pointed you in the right direction.

"Left or right?"

"Right!"

Rapping your knuckles against the tall wooden door, your skirt suddenly felt too short, too unprofessional to meet with this lawyer. He was an old family friend apparently, someone who had helped your dad with his 5th or 6th divorce, you couldn't remember at this point. He was spoken highly of, someone who handled business straight to the point--assisted your family name in getting everything they wanted.

A soft call beckoned you in, the door opening under your grasp to reveal floor to ceiling windows, highlighting the city that stood in front of you. The room was empty, save for a few pieces of furniture, metallic against the stark white of the room.

A man stood with his back to you, leaning against one of the windows as he peered out, a black coffee in his grip. He spoke on a phone in his other hand, frustration dripping in his voice as he discussed terms with them.

"Have a seat, I'll be right with you."

You tip toed as best as you could to the desk, finding a seat in one of the chairs. The desk was organized--meticulously so, a single pencil laid next to a ballpoint pen, aligned with a black leather bound planner. A computer was pushed in the far corner of the desk, neat and organized as the rest of the items, a single keyboard placed in front of you. There were smaller items in the opposite corner, a small lamp, fake plant, framed picture of what appeared to be a group of people.

You ran a finger along the length of the desk, testing your theory if there were to be a speck of dust found anywhere. There wasn't.

"Sorry about that," the man hummed, sliding out his chair to take a seat. Glancing up at him, a small gasp escaped your lips.

"Oh, you're cute," you whispered, smiling to yourself as you took him in. His hair was pushed back out of his face, styled so his gray speckled hair poked out from his hairline, framing his face perfectly. Thin wire glasses adorned his face, resting on the tip of his nose bridge, a pair of plump pink lips beneath them.

A blush crossed his features briefly before he cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at you.

"And you smell like alcohol," he shot back, dragging his eyes over your frame. Winking at him, you pulled up the hem of your top, brushing your fingers over your exposed breast bone.

"Long divorce, long night."

"Ah," there was a slight smirk on his lips, a glint in his eyes that you decided would be dangerous for you. You could deal with that later though. "Last name? I don't remember having a twelve, but I may have overlooked it."

He opened the planner in front of him, scanning the pages for your name as it fell from your mouth. Frowning slightly, he hummed, leaning over to type something in his computer.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the door flung open, an even older man appearing in the frame. He didn't even look at you, rolling his eyes as he leaned against the metal, fingers gripping his nose bridge, eyes squeezed shut.

"Remind me why I do family favors, again?" His voice was gruff, irritation lacing his tone. "Second time, we've tried to reschedule, and this chick won't show up."

The man in front of you cleared his throat, glancing at you as he began to put two and two together.

He cut the man off from the speech that began to pour out of his mouth, "Uh.. Harrison?"

The older guy stopped, eyes finding you for the first time. His eyes widened as he straightened up, adjusting the tie that sat around his neck.

"I'm in the middle of something here."

"Right, sorry, Harrington," he fled just as quickly as he arrived, the door shutting behind him. Reality hit you as it made a soft thud that echoed in the otherwise quiet room, you sinking into the chair a little.

"I take it you're supposed to be his twelve," that smirk only deepened as he looked at you, a sheepish look crossing your features. Smiling innocently in return, you sucked at your teeth, running it along them.

"I won't tell if you won't."

Shaking his head at you, he leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs wide as he pulled at his jacket lapels, huffing with the movement. Your eyes trailed down his form, lingering at the fabric where it bunched around his abdomen, dipping down into his groin.

"I'm going to be honest, kid, I don't know if I have room for another client right now," he began, speaking with his hands. He didn't notice your curious gaze, his own eyes focusing on his desk as he gave you the run down. "What do you have to be? 30? 31? Harrison, there, he's the best money could buy in this industry right now, with the most time. Used to young clients too. You're better off with him."

Pulling your eyes away from him, you shrugged, crossing your legs. Your skirt pushed up a little bit, exposing more of your thigh than would be considered appropriate for the setting. You pretended not to notice him look at you as you leaned over the desk, elbows perched on the cool wood.

"''M 25," You gave him the same smirk back, watching the way he briefly looked away, muttering 'Jesus Christ' under his breath at your age. "And I have all the money in the world to want you."

His eyebrows raised at your suggestive tone, clicking his teeth together as he thought of what to say next. You beat him to it.

"I think you'd be pretty good for me," your voice was low as your leaned over the desk, your chest beginning to spill from your strapless top that hugged your body. His gaze was unfaltering, focused on your face as you began to tease him.

"I doubt that's hardly appropriate or professional."

He stood up from the desk, adjusting his jacket once more before holding a flat hand out, gesturing towards the door.

"Ma'am?"

Your face fell as the rejection hit you, your mouth falling open in surprise. You weren't used to this, instead having men fall at your feet before and during your marriage even, used to throwing out the tens, hundred even of suitors that you plague you during the weeks.

Standing up, you leaned a hand against his desk, the other resting on your hip. "Sir."

He let out a deep sigh before running a hand over his perfectly styled hair. Knowing you weren't going to move, he crossed his hands over his chest.

"You're stubborn, aren't you?" His voice was firm as he rounded the desk to your side, landing feet away from you. From this proximity, you could smell the musk from his cologne, filling your nostrils with a slightly sweet scent. It only turned you on more.

"Don't you have to in this industry to get what you want?"

A genuine smile cracked through, warmth from his eyes showing as he (finally) dragged his eyes over your figure.

"Smart girl."

Those words did wonders for you, warmness pooling between your thighs as you took a step towards him. He backed away slightly, maintaining his professional composure.

"Harrington-"

"Steve."

Your smile deepened, your teeth digging into your bottom lip. "Steve. I don't see a wedding ring, so what's the problem?"

"Ironic, isn't it?" He didn't back away from you as you cornered him, placing a hand on his chest as he leaned against his desk, one of his hands grazing your thigh. He looked down at you, his eyes slightly hooded as you tilted your head up at him.

"Is it my age? Is that scaring you?"

Steve remained silent, darting his tongue out to lick at his lips. You could see the hesitation on his face, your question answering himself.

You trailed your hand up his chest, dancing your fingers along his neck, up to the nape of his hairline. "Well, I can promise you, I know what I'm doing."

A small nod left him, his head leaning down slightly to breathe you in, his lips parting. You craned your neck up to brush your mouth against his own.

"I could even teach you a few things."

A moan escaped you as he crashed his lips into yours, all professionalism leaving through the window. His hands found your waist, gripping the skin there as he spun the two of you around, lifting you up so you sat at the desk.

Your legs immediately came up to wrap around his hips, your hand pulling him further into you. He tasted like mint, his tongue finding its way between your parted lips, making claim there.

You leaned back against the desk, laying flat against it as he pushed you down, leaning over your body as his hands roamed free, grabbing at every exposed part of skin you had to offer. The largeness of them had you gasping into his mouth, eyes rolling back behind closed eye lids as you imagined them elsewhere, dipping inside of you.

Pulling away, he pressed kisses to your jawline, the scruff on his face leaving redness as he sucked in a few marks, nipping at the skin as he led himself lower.

"Steve," you moaned, gripping at his hair. He leaned back, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he pushed up the material.

"Don't touch the hair," he quickly said, pressing a kiss at your chest before sinking to his knees. You rolled your eyes at him, spreading your legs anyways as he slid down your panties, throwing them to the side. "I'm at work."

You could barely spit out a response before his mouth made contact with your wet cunt, licking you open immediately. A strangled moan was choked out, your hands shooting out to grab onto anything you could find. The organized items you recognized from before fell onto the floor, loud clatters filling the room.

His tongue left you briefly, Steve shushing you as he hitched your knee over his shoulder. Returning his mouth to you, your back arched, the wetness between your legs increasing.

You didn't know if it was him or you that had you dripping, your core tightening as he worked his magic, tongue flicking in and out of you, one of his fingers nurturing your clit under its touch.

"Steve, Steve," his name fell out of your mouth in a mantra, your eyes squeezed shut. Reaching behind you, you curled your hand over the edge of his desk beside your head, pushing your hips into his face even further.

He moaned at the push against his face, shoving his face in even deeper. His mouth alternated between licking at you, diving his tongue in and out of your wet hole and leaning up to suck at your clit, working fast as you fell apart around him.

"I'm gonna-"

It was fast, over just as quickly as it happened, your legs tightening around his head as you came, orgasm coursing through the length of your spine. Your eyes opened, staring up at the high ceiling as he tongue fucked you through it, running his thumb over your clit.

"Such a good girl." His words were addicting, praises that had you wanting to continue. You knew it was bad, just how good this felt, but you didn't care, it had been so long since you had a decent lay, this attention feeling like heaven.

Whining, the over stimulation felt like a strange vice, something you knew you shouldn't have, but so pleasurable at the same time. Steve removed himself from between your legs, leaning up to return his mouth to yours. You tasted yourself on his lips, the area around his mouth dripping wet with your release.

His hands were pulling at his belt, pushing at his boxers, releasing himself in a swift motion. Your lips were pushed together so sloppily, loud smacks filled the air as he ran the head of his cock through your folds once, twice, three times before sliding in.

Snaking your legs around his hips, you pulled him deeper, the stretch burning so right.

"Slow do-oh fuck--please, slow down," he muttered, resting his forehead against yours. One of his hands rested on the desk beside your head, the other trailing down the length of your leg. Stopping at your heel, he freed your foot from the constraint of the Louboutin, it already hanging half way off.

Tossing it away from the two of you, he pulled your leg up higher on his hip. You cursed at him, two thousand dollars being carelessly thrown to the other side of the desk.

"I'll buy you a new pair, relax," he said, pressing one more kiss to you before rearing his hips back. You expected him to slam into you, only for him to carefully ease his way back in, rolling his hips in a way that had you shaking already.

You moaned, dragging your nails up under his shirt. The crisp material bunched up under your hands, pulling half way up his back.

Your words came out stuttered, groans falling from your lips as you struggled, "Perfect, this se-season, ah, right there, is to die f-for. Fuck, Steve."

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes, as he sat up, hand beside your head leaving the desk to press against your mouth. He muffled your moans, thrusting into you repeatedly as he picked up his pace. The desk was shaking under the movement of your two bodies, his computer threatening to topple over.

The ruddy head of his cock pressed against your walls, hitting that sweet spot over and over. You could barely hold back your screams of excitement, grateful for the large hand that muffled them from fully coming out. They would have sure been heard from miles away, urging concern from his colleagues who shared the floor. Hell, maybe even a few floors down.

Steve was getting close, his head falling back in pleasure as he repeatedly bottomed out, pushing in deeper each time compared to the last. You pulsed around him, dripping as he drew you closer to your second orgasm.

His hips stuttered a few times before he came, filling your cunt deep as he pushed in one last time to the hilt. That final push was all it took for you to be sent over the edge, pulsing around his twitching cock as it was nestled deep inside you.

His hand left your mouth, running over the side of your cheek as you leaned into it, spent from the high. He tested himself once more, once small push of his hips inside again before you whined, reaching down to press your fingertips against his stomach. He got the hint, pulling out of you with a squelch that filled the air, white ribbons of cum spilling out of you.

He grabbed your hand in his, pressing a small kiss to the back of it as you reached down with the other, feeling the mess he left behind.

"Good girl."

Groaning, you shook your finger at him in a warning, sitting up on your elbows. "Don't start that again, please."

Your legs fell from around his hips as he took a step back, adjusting himself back into his pants. He took a look around the room, as if someone would be watching, his hand brushing down his face.

"Same time tomorrow?" You asked, pulling down your skirt as you stood up on one heel, the other on the desk chair pushed opposite of you two. You turned on the desk, leaning over to grab it as you pushed your ass in his direction, teasing him one final time.

As you turned around and sat up, you noticed the vacant look behind his eyes as his eyes lingered on you, pants being left unbuckled, his belt hanging loosely from the loops. "I actually have a twelve tomorrow."

You shook your head at him, walking over to him as you grabbed the discarded pair of panties that were draped over one of the open drawers. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you smirked up at him, "Better start making some arrangements then."

The look on his face returned to what it was during the heat of the moment, a dark stare with his mouth parted open in want. You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, a smear of the remnants of your gloss left on the skin.

Tucking your underwear into the waistband of his pants, you took a step back from him, pulling your skirt down even more.

"Hold onto those for me, yeah?"

Another mutter of 'Jesus Christ' was heard as you walked over the door, swinging it open to reveal the long hallway you came from. You were giddy as you smiled to yourself, the fun of this separation finally coming to fruition.

masterlist. inbox and requests are open! <3

a/n: long awaited I know! but here it is! I hope you loved it anon, I love you. I decided to put this as as stand alone instead of in the request because I wasn't sure how long it was going to be.

[creamecafe]

Hii!! Can you do one for Stephen where he found out he and the reader are married in several words thanks to America, and the two of you are pining for each other until he accidentally reveals he’s truly in love with you? Thank you!! <33

I Know I'd Go Back to You

Summary: Stephen has always loved you and you with him from the start. But you both ended things on short notice. Until America reveals you both are together in different worlds in the multiverse, will Stephen take the risk to let it happen in his universe?

Pairing: Stephen Strange x GN!Reader

Word Count: ???

Warnings: none just fluff, pining, a bit of angst, flashbacks, heartbreak, deja vu to palmerstrange 🥲

Author's Note: I'm literally so sorry @smokeywhalee that this literally almost took 2 years. But here it is, FINALLYY! Hope you enjoy

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Stephen Strange Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Join my taglist!

Read on Wattpad and AO3 here

Life was normal for neurosurgeon, Doctor Stephen Strange and for you too. You both met in college in New York, he was studying to be a doctor and you were studying to be a lawyer. 

Despite your guys' different classes times and different career choices, both of you had a unexplainable attraction to each other. You started off as friends, Stephen would walk you to your class or you would walk out during the four seasons.

But both of you knew you wanted something more. It wasn't until in March 2013 that Stephen asked you to be his partner. He was a nervous wreck, worried that he would ruin the friendship, you both have. But you said yes. Now being with you is the best thing to happen and to occupy his life happily besides being a neurosurgeon.

You would wait for him after work to drive home and spend time together. He would also love to take you on expensive and fancy dates, because he always wanted the best for you. Life was going great for the both of you. 

Until February 2, 2016 came. The day of Stephen got into a car crash. You were waiting for him in the restaurant with the reservation you guys both made 5 months in advance. 

10 minutes had passed and you started to become worried. You knew he wasn't the type of guy to stood you up or leave you hanging. It was until you got a call from the hospital Stephen works at. You picked it up

"Hello?" Your voice shaking nervousily

"Hello, is this Y/N?" 

"Yes it is"

"I'm sorry to inform you that Stephen Strange has been in a car crash and is in critical need."

Your heart stopped. You couldn't believe this was happening. Stephen gotten into a car crash. 

"Oh-oh my God. Is he ok?" Your voice got higher and shaking even more

"We're trying to take care of him right now and get him under care as immediate as possible."

"I'm on my way, please tell him that."

"Will do, sorry to tell you the news."

Grabbing your coat, you wasted no time leaving the restaurant. You explained to the waitress you have to leave to a emergency. You called out a taxi and asked to go to Metropolitan General Hospital." 

7 minutes passed with traffic in the way. You ran to the front desk and asked to see Stephen Strange, saying you were his partner. The lady in the front told you that he's in surgery and won't be conscious in another day or two. You were willing to wait those days, just to make sure he was still alive. You took a seat in the waiting room, hoping and praying Stephen would be ok. The anxiety was eating away of how bad his condition could be. Soon enough, you fell asleep until the next day.

You take a look at your phone and see it's 5am of February 3, 2016. You go to buy yourself a snack fron the vending machine as you missed your dinner from the restaurant you and Stephen were supposed to be. You waited and bought 2 more snacks to keep yourself awake. 

"Y/N L/N?" 

Your head raised to who was calling you. 

"Y/N L/N?" 

Ahead of you see a lady in a white coat and scrubs with a clipboard call your name.

"That's me." You raise your hand.

"You can see Stephen now."

Your heart beat gladly. It must be a sign he's still alive, probably the not best condition but you're glad he's still alive. 

You go to him room and see him in bed. His right eye is swollen and both of his hand are raised up supported by strings and 11 stainless steel pins to support his nerves. He was sleeping. You quietly thanked the nurse. 

You sat by him and waited till he woke up. 25 minutes have passed and he did. 

You held his shoulder gently until he was fully conscious. 

"Hey, hey. It's me Y/N. It's going to be ok." 

Stephen looks at you and looks at his hands. 

"What did they do?"

You explained everything that the doctor told you and how long he was in surgery, the same time you waited for him to make sure he was well.

He repeated the same words "What they did do?" Can't believing what his eyes are seeing. 

The next past few days you stayed by his side to make sure he was well. You were by his side in therapy, helped him shaved supporting him along the way. 

But his attitude didn't change of bitter he had become. And he definitely didn't show appreciation for you either. You went into his apartment to drop off the groceries you bought for him. He was upset due to a meeting regarding a procedure in Tokyo. He was going on he needs a loan of at least $200,000. 

You tried to tell him it's best for him to stop as this was having so much control over him, especially his condition. He explains that no matter how much therapy he receives, he's not getting any better, can't get back to the way he was before.

You explain to him that there other things that can give his life meaning. 

"Like what? Like you?" He snapped back at you.

You were shocked. He never spoken to you in a matter like this before. No matter how cocky he could be, he knew better than to talk to you in a way that he knew could hurt you.

"This is the part where you apologize."

"This is the part where you leave." 

That's when it hit you, he really changed. He wasn't the same boy who would walk you to class or always compliment your outfits. He was still Stephen, but not the Stephen you have loved for 3 years. 

You try to talk to him, but he still had this fire coming out of his voice, like daggers stabbing.

"You just care so much, don't you?" Stephen yelled.

"Goodbye Stephen." You went ran out the door and slammed it behind you. You went to your car and started driving to your place. But you couldn't hold it in anymore. You were crying, sobbing. You didn't want things to end this way, but you can't bear to see Stephen this way or the way hes treating you. 

A year pass and you're going on in your normal life. That's when Stephen makes a portal to where you are. You are scared and shocked. But also confused to what he's wearing. He apologizes everything to you and the way he treated you. You accept it but didn't feel ready to get back with him. Stephen accepts and leaves you be, taking on protecting the world as new priority. He's just at hurt as you a year ago with breaking up with you. But he knows he must move on. 

In 2018 the blip happens and you disappear, so does Stephen Strange. 5 years later you come back and you try to get your life back to normal. Stephen tried to do the same but couldn't stop thinking of you still. 

Later on, he meets a teenage girl named America Chavez that can travel through the multiverse. 

With different versions of Stephen around the multiverse, he didn't realize the possiblity of still being with you. 

"How's Y/N?" America asked. 

"They're good. Happy. They're happy." Shaking, Stephen says, now thinking about you. 

"I can imagine. They're happy with you."

"Uh, well we're not together. We used to be. We broke up 8 years ago. I disappeared due to the snap and it felt like we ended things on short notice."

"What? You both are not together in this universe?" 

He was confused about what America meant by that. "Together? In this universe?" 

"What do you mean this universe?" 

"Every Stephen I know there with Y/N. You both are together. Married. It always felt to me no matter what universe it was, you always were meant to be together. And nothing could stop that."

He had to stop and think for a moment. Every universe he's with you?

"I'm with Y/N in every universe?

"Don't you love Y/N?" 

"I do. But it was 8 years ago, almost a decade. They most likely moved on..."

"You'll never know if you don't tell them. America interrupts. "In a million ways it can go where you are together, why not risk one chance. Tell them how you feel."

He thought about it. Being with you is the only thing that can help him be at ease. Making amends with you is something he doesn't want to stop doing.

He practices of how he's going to talk to you, what he will say. Walking back and forth, he's trying to think of the right words. 

"Don't overthink it. Just talk naturally, say how you really feel."

"I don't know if I can. What if they already moved on?" 

"You'll never know unless you tell them. Come on, I know you can do this." 

Stephen takes America's word into his mind and try to come up what to say.

He spent the next few days going over of how he's going to approach you and he knew exactly what to say.

Until he thought he did until he saw you. He greteted you and you did the same. He was a stuttering mess with you

"Y/N-Y/N. I would like to tell-tell you something."

"Ok, what is it?"

This was it, he could tell you.

"I was thinking we could get coffee sometimes." He cursed himself in his head.

Why couldn't he say what he really wants to, to you?

"Uh sure, what day? Because this whole week and the next I'm kinda really busy."

"Tuesday?"

"Yeah that could work, oh wait I have a meeting"

"Friday then?"

"Friday, but could it be at 6pm because I have-"

"I love you Y/N."

You were stopped talking and were taken back.

"What?"

Oh no. This could be the perfect opportunity to tell her everything or mess up, or both.

"I tried to stop thinking about you, but I can't. And it's okay you don't feel the same way. I love you. I love you in every universe."

Stephen took a deep breath and waited for you to say something, anything. He knew he would mess it up and make it awkward quick.

That's when you kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his neck. He was taken back, but soon melted into the kiss and he wrapped his arms around you back.

"I can't, couldn't stop thinking about you either. I love you too Stephen." A tear goes down your cheek.

This made him happy, America was right all along. It looks like you guys were meant to be after all.

Taglist: @bitchy-bi-trash

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to heart, reblog, share, comment on what you think, and follow for more works! You can also find me on Wattpad and my other socials in my bio. Feedback is always much appreciated!

Have a great day/night or wherever you live around the world!

[sweet-creature101]

New York Streets & Dreams

Harry Styles, a classic New York law firm grump meets a wild spirited girl, Y/N when he argues with her on a road intersection.

Grump!harry; a grump x sunshine trope.

warnings: mention of alcohol, swearing. Suggestive language.

The songs playing in your headphones pumped your head with a string of melodies. You hum with a smile on your face, riding your bicycle in the warm sun taking in the city around you. Your paint splattered hands, still a bit wet grip the bicycle handle as you steer it around the city.

You steer around the busy and bustling roads, whisked away in a world of your own. You paid no heed to the rushing cars, staying near the footpath. Many had often told you not to cycle, especially during rush hour since the streets would be jam packed. “Walking, driving or going in a cab isn’t the same as cycling y’know?” You’d always say when the question was risen as to why you cycle.

You were about to turn right when a series of honks stops you right in your path. You yank down your headphones harshly and look around, an annoyed look beginning to form on your face.

“You!”

You whip your head to meet that voice. You see a man, dressed in a blue blazer over a white shirt with trousers step down from his Mercedes, his face morphed into a furious expression.

“What?” You ask harshly, your bicycle still parked right in front of his car.

“Look around woman! I would’ve run you over.” He shouts at you over the loud traffic.

“I was on my side of the lane. You’re the one who decided last minute to take the turn!” You yell back with equal anger as you meet his steel gaze, your own unflinching.

“You had your headphones on! If you would’ve looked around, we wouldn’t be here!” He said, even more annoyed than before now.

“What do you want? You know what, I offer you my sincerest fucking apology! Leave me alone!” You said, your coloured hands flailing in the air.

“An apology? Thats not good enough. You need to be aware of your surroundings.” He countered, his arms crossing over his chest.

“And you need to chill out. It’s just a traffic jam!” You exclaimed, your voice a pitch higher.

“You don’t understand! I almost ran you over!” You were certain that the man in front was giving out literal smoke now.

“Yeah, well I’m still here so calm down.” You said sarcastically. Your hands come down and rest at either side of your hip.

“You’re unbelievable. I can’t do this.” He said, huffing out a breath of disbelief.

“Fine. Suit yourself.” You said shrugging as you sat on your bicycle. And began to cycle.

“Watch where you’re going!” The man yelled for the last time.

Harry checked his watch again and again, contemplating if going out with his friends was a good decision considering how his utter shit his day had been. He had reached his office late because of a mishap that involved him arguing with a pretty girl in between a traffic jam which earned him an earful from his colleagues.

He looked around the neon street, the coloured lights metling into the dark night sky above him. He wondered, when he was the last time he went out with friends. When was the last time he went just as Harry, not as a top shot lawyer? When was the last time he didn’t think about work?

He couldn’t remember.

“Harry! I’m so happy you made it!” Lindsey, smiled and encased him in a hug.

Lindsay had been begging Harry to join her and her friends since the last two months. Harry as always, had politely refused saying that his workload was far too much. However, Lindsey wasn’t short of surprise when Harry called her late this afternoon and said he wanted to join her.

“I’m only here so that I don’t have to deal with you for the next two months.” Harry said rolling his eyes playfully. Lindsey smacked his arm and dragged him in the club.

It was large semi circle couch nestled in the back corner with a mammoth sized round wood table fitted in it like a puzzle piece.

Lindsey dragged Harry all the way to the back of the club where he spotted a few familiar faces. All of them waved to Harry and Harry said to hi them.

“Where’s Y/N?” Lindsey asked as she slid onto the seat.

“In the washroom.” A friend, Niall said before downing a shot in one go earning an impressed looking from Harry in return.

“You’ll love Y/N.” Lindsey said, winking at Harry who was still standing. He only gave her a slight smile.

Harry was about to go to the washroom before a voice boomed, seeming quite familiar.

“You! Oh my God you’re stalking me!” You yelled at him, your face showing how furious you are. Everyone at the table stopped eating and drinking because all their focus was fixated on you.

“What the fuck!” Harry said, his eyes widening at the accusation you hurled at him.

“You try to kill me first and now that I’m alive even after your murder attempt, you decide to do the deed here.” You said, referring to his attempt at ‘mudering’.

“Are you stupid?” Harry asked you in utter disbelief.

“No but I have a gun!” You said, not realising that you hadn’t even brought your purse with you tonight.

“Yeah, well where is it then?” Harry asked you, crossing his arms as he eyed you up and down like a predator assessing his prey.

“It’s none of your business!” You yell at him, realising that he caught you lying red handed. You size him up, your arms crossing over your chest.

“So I guess you two have met already. Harry this is Y/N, Y/N this is Harry.” Lindsey murmured from her side of the table, the overhanging lamp illuminating only a small part of her face.

“For the record, you and I know both know I didn’t try to kill you.” Harry said, his eyebrows raised as a wary look danced in his eyes.

“Fine.” You said.

“Great now that’s over, let’s get this party started!” Niall yelled, with excitement as the whole table broke out in a couple of hoots.

As the night proceeded, you downed drink after drink and danced like there would be no tomorrow. The lights flashing around you merged into your skin. The music blaring around you was pumping life into you.

In the corner of your eye, you see Harry who was leaning against the wall, a drink that he had been drinking for the past half hour still in his hand as he looked around with a bored look etched on his face. You walk toward him, your steps much more confident now because of a few drinks you had.

If your circumstance wasn’t so compelling you might have thought Harry to be quite an attractive man. You could make out the sculpted muscles of his biceps and abdomen through his shirt.

Harry watched you intently, drinking in your frame with every movement of yours. He didn’t fail to notice how wondrous your body looked in that little white dress you paired with a metal chain waist belt which had blue stones engraved on it, resting on the swell of your hips.

“You look as if you’re at a funeral.” You snickered, coming to stand close to him. Your forearms touch and you feel your focus narrow to the sparks of fire you felt coming from there.

Harry let his lips show a sliver of smile, a chuckle coming out of him.

“Ah well I’m not really in the mood to dance or party tonight.” Harry said shrugging slightly.

“What! You’re at a club, with such amazing people. Come on, if you’re not gonna dance on your own then dance with me.” You said smiling at him as your turn your face to look at him, admiring how the dancing lights accentuated his eyes and upraised cheekbones and his plush lips.

“You’re drunk, arent ya?” Harry asked you.

“It takes me more than three sleazy drinks to get drunk.” You said patting his arm.

“Well, I can’t really dance.” Harry said, evidently stalling like a five year old.

“It’s about having fun Harry.”

Those words somehow snapped a leash on Harry which he didn’t know existed. You extended your hand towards him that he gladly took.

Harry never knew he could have that much fun. He danced all night with you, drinking to his hearts content and screaming every song that played, even the ones he swore he’d never listen, ‘stupid pop music’ he called those same songs.

His hands were on your waist now and you broke out in a string of giggles, the alcohol in your system heightening every feeling. Harry looked at you and marvelled at your face, how pretty it looked and smiled at you softly drawing you closer to him.

“If you hadn’t tried mudering me this morning, I would’ve called you handsome y’know.” You said flicking his nose.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to murder you.” Harry said smiling.

“God, you’re so handsome Harry.”

Harry woke up with a groan as he clutched his head. He looked around and found himself in a room he couldn’t recognise. There were sun catchers hanging from the large window which was installed, as large as a wall casting sparkles all over the room. There were plush colourful stuff toys strewn all over the orange couch opposite to the bed he found himself in. He looked over and saw you sleeping.

The sight of you alone nearly knocked out his breath.

You slowly you open your eyes and once the realisation hits, you scramble out of the bed, looking at yourself and then Harry. You were in an oversized tee shirt of yours while Harry was in a pair of boxers.

“Did we?” You ask him, standing barefoot at your wooden floor.

“No, we were too out of it.” Harry said looking at you.

“Oh thank God.” You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “Wait, it’s not like I don’t want to do it with you, seriously don’t take it that way-”

“Hmmm.” Harry hummed, clearly amused with your state of chaos.

“I dont want to do it with you if we’re like.. drunk and all. I’d rather be stone cold sober.” You said.

“I’ll keep that in mind Y/N.” Harry said chuckling.

“Oh my God I’ll just shut up.” You said, covering your face with your hand.

Harry looked at the time and got up, stretching. You avoided the urge to look at his sculpted arms, chest and stomach but you managed to sneak in a few glances.

“I’ve got a case to prepare for. I’ll text you in a few.” Harry said as he buttoned his white shirt.

“You don’t have my number.” You said.

“But Lindsey does.” Harry said shrugging.

He wore his trousers and grabbed his stuff. Before leaving he ran a hand over your hair playfully. He then snaked an arm around your waist and tugged you towards him. You bit down a gasp at the sudden movement and closeness that was now there.

“I’d kiss you if i wasn’t so late for work.” Harry said.

“Are you making excuses Harry?” You said, peering up at him as you rested your hands on his chest.

“I’m waiting for the right moment Love.” He said.

He dipped his head and kissed the corner of your lips. He slowly moved his lips over yours. You could feel them hovering over yours. You could imagine and feel how kissing him would be like, sparks running down your bones and veins.

“I’ll see you.” Harry said, kissing your cheek before leaving for work.

You felt yourself melt into a puddle of emotions and glitter as you sank to the floor with a youthful smile on your face.

Harry, in all his corporate glory was late to pick you up tonight. Meaning, he had no time to change his clothes which is why he stood at your door, in his black trousers and ruffled white shirt, a single rose he plucked from his office garden dangling from his hand.

Harry most positively hated everyone. He hated large crowds. He hated too much colour. He’d rather live life in black and white but you brought about a change. A change dripping with colours and laughter and undiluted joy.

He rang your doorbell which was splattered with coloured fingerprints, probably yours.

“Hi.” You said, emerging out of the apartment which was installed above your art studio where you took classes and painted by yourself.

“You look beautiful.” Harry said, as you dressed up in a short white satin skirt which you paired with a yellow top. Your cowboy boots clicked with every step.

“You look like… you came straight from work.” You said chuckling.

“That’s because I did.” Harry said as he handed you over the single rose, already whitering.

“Cute.” You said.

———————

Harry looked around the restraunt, sitting opposite to you. It hadn’t occurred to him how silent and how much of a grump he had been all evening. You observed him silently, waiting for a sliver of conversation to appear between you two.

“Get up.” You said, breaking Harry out of his daze.

“What?”

“Did I stutter? Here’s my half of the bill, give yours and let’s get the hell out of here.” You said callinh a waiter, giving her half as you waited for Harry. He handed her his half as well and stood up and followed her out.

———————

Harry had no clue you bring him here out of all the places he could think of. You handed over Harry his rollerskates, a devious smile on your face.

“No.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked around the skating rink, purple lights flashing all over his face.

“Come on, don’t be a sour sport.” You said lacing your shoes.

“We could have had a nice dinner-”

“Not with you ignoring me all night Harry.” You shot back before he could finish his sentence. “I don’t know what was bothering you but now we’re here. You’ll only have fun if you let go.” You added gently.

“Fine.” Harry said as he laced his shoes and stepped into a rink.

Harry holds your hand as you guide him, picking up pace gradually. You smile at him as you leave his hand and circle around him, twirling like a small child. You let out a laugh as Harry yanks to his side, almost making you two fall down on the ground.

“Harry!” You squeal as his hand reaches your waist and pulls you towards him.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence, gliding with you effortlessly. You jab his side causing him to let go. You poke your tongue at him and skate away backwards, your eyes at him.

Harry tries to skate as fast as you but ends up almost tripping. “Come here Y/N!” He says, from one end his face full of joy.

You slowly glide towards him and interlace your hands with his. You pull him towards yourself this time and rest your arms on his neck, a smile on his lips at your movement.

“You look very beautiful tonight Love.” Harry said, an idle coming to rest at the curve of your back.

“You happened to mention it earlier.” You said blushing.

Harry looked at you and realised how much you meant to him. He realised that he in fact didn’t how to have fun or let loose before he met you. Hell, he’s even rollerblading with you. Harry felt free. Harry felt himself. Harry felt at home.

And perhaps that’s why he kissed you.

His hand reached out, cupping your cheek while the other reached the nape of your neck. His touch sent shivers down your spine. And there it was, without a word he kissed.

Harry kissed you and the world slowed down.

In that moment, all colours merged into one. Your focus narrowed down to the entirety of the kiss and how it felt to move your tongue against his, savouring him slowly and sinfully.

Harry pulled away and looked into yours. His being a pool of utter joy and happiness. He picked you up slightly, sounds of laughter of coming out of the two of you.

“It’s the Rollerblading, I tell ya.” Harry said smiling.

You were sitting in your art studio all by yourself when the bell rang. You found it peculiar since you had no classes scheduled today. You wiped your hands off a towel and opened the door to see Harry, dressed in normal clothes for the first time in months.

You and Harry had been meeting on and off for a quite a while now. Kissing him, cuddling him, simply staying with him brought you happiness and same was for harry. You saw him open up to new things like dancing in the rain, going to McDonalds at midnight, screaming songs and appreciate life.

“How can I help you today?” You ask him, your arms coming to rest at either shoulder as he pulled you in and kissed you hard and slow.

He pulled away and shifted on his feet.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him as you sat back on your seat and began finishing your painting.

Harry fished out a piece of paper and started reading, a smile of amusement on your face.

“Y/N, you’re the reason I feel no shame in singing at the top of my lungs or at skinny dipping late night. You make me live. And I know I’m not what you want and I know I’m an arrogant son of a bitch but the minute I saw you at the intersection, I knew was I fucked. So-” Harry stopped mid way, crumbled the letter and looked at you, his gaze unflinching as he asked, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.” You said as you ran over to him, your painted hands grabbing his face as you kissed him with all your might.

Authors note: thank you so much for reading! Interact with me! Let me know if you liked it in the comments, send me asks, send me messages, talk to me! I love you I love you I love you.

[kristineciganek]

How to Handle a Speeding Ticket in Clarkstown

Handling a Clarkstown speeding ticket involves understanding your options, gathering evidence, and possibly contesting the ticket in court. By following the steps outlined above and being aware of common traffic violations like unsafe lane changes in Clarkstown, you can navigate the process more confidently. Remember, maintaining a clean driving record and being informed about traffic laws are key to avoiding future tickets and staying safe on the road.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

My Guardian Angel ~Broken!Rita Calhoun xFem Younger!Investigator!Reader (Liz Donnelly x Alex Cabot) feat. Rafael Barba & Olivia Benson

Summary— AU where Rita has an abusive husband, and one night, after he storms out, Rita calls Reader. Reader brings Rita to the person who helped her with her own haunted past, Elizabeth Donnelly. Alex, Barba, and Liv makes appearances. What does the night have in store for Rita and Reader…?

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, a little fluff, dead dove: do not eat, implied abuse, implied sexual assault, implied abusive husband, comforting, crying, alcohol consumption, anxiety attacks, a little self destructive behavior, mentions to prostitution, SVU things, Elizabeth Donnelly, Alex Cabot, Rafael Barba, Olivia Benson, Liz and Alex are a bit of a power couple, gray ending, etc.

Enjoy (;

You didn’t know Rita Calhoun well. At least not originally. From the moment you did meet, you both couldn’t deny the connection between the two of you. You had always lived in coinciding worlds, she was a New York defense attorney, and you were an investigator for 1PP, occasionally lended out to SVU.

Originally, she was the lawyer whom you had hired for your idiot of a brother when he had been caught and charged with soliciting a prostitute. You had met with the high class woman on a couple of occasions, to discuss your brothers bail, probation, trial, payment, and anything else pertaining to his case.

You saw yourself intrigued by her elegant manner, high end fashion, and confidence. Soon you saw yourself get hooked to the tiny smiles and chuckles you managed to pull from her when in private. You found yourself fighting to make the woman laugh as much as you could, her laugh always seemed to make your day. And during the trial, your eyes were on her the entire time. You lived off those days outfits that Rita would strut into court in.

So when you checked your phone late Friday night, the last thing you expected to see what a very many handfuls of missed calls from Rita Calhoun. You saw that she had left a voicemail in the last call, so you pressed play.

“Heyyyy Y/N… S-sorry to be bothering you so I know it’s^^late… I… I just… I don’t know what to do, call me back k bye”

It was Rita alright, but something was very wrong. She had been stammering and hiccuping throughout the entire voicemail, and had broken into sobs by the end. She sounded like she’d been crying and drinking for far too long… Her sounds triggered memories of your own life, memories that you had gone to great lengths to bury.

You immediately called the woman back. The dial rang for a couple tones, then it shut off. You hit call again. The second time, she picked up. You heard a sniffle and then a choke sob.

“H-hey…” she practically whispered.

“Rita, Hi, is everything alright?”

“I…” She stammered, before the call went silent.

“Rita?” You asked, your concern growing.

“N-no” She whispered, then letting out another choked sob.

You took a deep breath and your instincts kicked in once more. You got Rita to give you her address and told her that you would be over as soon as possible. That night you broke the made the most traffic violations in your entire life.

You entered the house, the front door having been unlocked which was mildly concerning to you. You walked through the lavish, lofty apartment, until you found Rita curled up facing away from you in the living room on the floor with a full bottle of wine in her hand. Your heart sank and a lump came into your throat. You hated how normal and used to this sight you were. Because not too long ago, this had been you…

You dropped to the floor, immediately going to comfort the woman. You carefully removed the alcohol, setting it aside. Rita let out a choke sob, immediately curling up into your lap. As she turned to face you, you saw the massive black eye that she had. Your eyes scanned her entire body, finding more red, raw skin marks along her arms and some blue bruising on her neck. Your heart nearly broke as Rita sobbed into your lap.

“I—im s-sorry… I didn’t-didn’t know who t-to call…! It’s it’s stupid, nothing really—” Rita choked out, muffled as she cried into your chest.

You knew this behavior. You knew it all too well.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. I’m here Rita… It’s all going to be okay. Can I touch you, honey…? Would that be alright…?” You very gently asked the woman, coming a little closer to her, trying to show that you were no threat.

Rita nodded as her cries were muffled by her face being in the crook of your neck. She clung onto you like her life depended on it.

“Ok, good… you are doing so good for me, Rita. Take some deep breaths for me? Can you try to do that?” You comforted the woman, bringing your hands around to hold the woman in your lap.

You could hear Rita trying to take some deep breaths as she nodded, although her hiccups made it more difficult.

“Good, very good, Rita.” You praised, then bringing your hands to cup the woman’s cheeks and direct her scattered gaze to you.

“Now Rita this is important… I need you to come back to me and think, okay?”

A slow nod.

“Is he going to come back anytime soon…?” You softly asked.

Rita’s eyes widened and she began to panic at your question. Your hold on the woman only tightened and you insisted on her answer.

“I know you don’t want to think about it, but I need to know if you’re safe staying here Rita.” You explained firmly yet lovingly.

Rita took some more deep breaths before stammering,

“I… he he’s gone out… drinking…” she gulped, “Be back late…”

Her eyes were red and glossy, and they only panicked more at the idea of her husband returning. You rubbed her back and caressed her check in comfort.

“Ok. We need to get you to a hospital, Rita…” you gently said, knowing the possible outlast that your words might cause.

Rita practically jumped out of your lap and was quick to stand up and start pacing in the living room. Her fingers were red and raw and fidgeting. Her gaze scattered everywhere. You slowly stood up and tried to corner the woman into your embrace.

“No no no hospitals… hospitals means cops and that means court and no no—” Rita rambled, her thoughts spiraling more and more.

You grabbed the woman’s hands, clasping them in your own to ground the woman. Her sobbing gaze finally met yours once more.

“Okay. That’s okay. Rita, listen to me, is there anywhere you can go to stay for the time being…?” You softly asked.

Rita’s lip began to tremble and her knees buckled, her body falling into yours. Luckily, you managed to gently catch and carry the weight of the woman while she regained partial strength.

“N-not RAF—Rafael… he can’t know, no no no one…” Rita choked out in gasps.

When she wasn’t able to come up with any other options, your mind went to the person who had helped you.

“Okay okay, that’s okay, Rita. How about Elizabeth? You know Judge Donnelly? She’s a close friend and I know she can help…” you spoke with understanding and reassurance.

Rita looked up to you from collapsing in your arms and nodded slowly. But her eyes told you that she had sunken too far into her thoughts, that you would have to start making the decisions in her best interest until she came back to you.

You gently placed Rita back on the couch, quickly going to the kitchen to grab her a water, while you then ran around the place, trying to pack her a weekend back. After about 15 minutes, you had the bag in hand and you were leading the woman out of the house and into a cab. The entire cab ride, Rita was snuffling and silently sobbing in your shoulder.

Once you reached Liz’s brownstone, you violently knocked on the door, Rita protected being you and holding your hand. The door flew open but it wasn’t Liz, it was a blonde. Your eyes went wide and you gulped, suddenly regretting not having double checked with Liz beforehand.

“You’re Y/N, right…? I’m Alex.” The tall blonde spoke slowly yet confidently.

“Yes, um is Liz home?” You said, quickly getting to the point while trying to hide Rita behind you to the best of your ability.

But Liz had told you about Alex, she was sharp, didn’t miss a thing.

“Yea, she’s in the kitchen… Is that Calhoun…?” Alex hummed, leaning against the doorway.

You took a deep breath and brought Rita to stand next to you. Alex’s jaw dropped and she took a step back in shock.

“I just… we needed a safe place to go for the night and Liz always said her door was always open and I’m sorry if we intruded, I just can’t handle this, I mean I know Liz can handle it, and so I thought—” you rambled.

Before you could say another word, the blonde was pulling you and Rita into the brownstone, closing the door behind her and marching straight up to Liz in the kitchen.

“Is that our take-out, bunny…?” Liz hummed, while sipping some wine before her gaze met yours and then Rita’s disheveled state.

“Oh my god.” Liz immediately put her glass doing and rushed over to Rita, her hands wandering all over the woman, her gaze scouring the woman’s injuries, “Rita, Darling, what happened…??”

Rita’s lip trembled before more violent sobs came out. No coherent words were possible for the woman at this point, all she could do was embrace Liz and sob into her chest. Liz happily consoled the poor woman before her gaze meet yours along with the go bag.

“I’m sorry…” you mouthed, referring to breaking up her and Alex’s obvious night together.

“Hush now, you did the right thing, take Rita’s things to the first bedroom on the second floor.” Liz told you, waving off your unneeded apology.

You immediately nodded and went to go up the stairs. Then Luz turned to Alex.

“Go run a bath, warm not too hot.” Liz spoke firmly.

Alex was off to the master bathroom after a quick nod. When you both returned, you found Rita clung around Liz like a Koala, clinging on for dear life and continuing to sob in her chest. The sight brought flashbacks of the night you had stumbled up on Liz’s doorstep, in an eerily same condition as Rita…

Liz soothed Rita while guiding her to the master bathroom. The older blonde sent you a comforting gaze with a nod, telling you that she had it. You placed a hand on your heart and took a shattered breath, nodding slowly.

It was then that you noticed Alex coming up beside you. You turned your head to her slightly.

“I… I just didn’t know where else to go… I’m sorry if I ruined your night…” you breathed out.

Alex brought a hand to your shoulder and reassuringly squeezed your skin lightly. Her eyes twinkled with sympathy and care.

“Hey, it’s okay. You made the right call. And hey, I’m glad to finally meet you.” Alex sighed, “Can I get you anything…?”

You nodded and then sighed yourself.

“Tea maybe…? Or fuck some scotch now that I think about it…”

A deep chuckle reverberated throughout Alex’s chest as she nodded in agreement, going to the kitchen and pulling a bottle out of the liquor cabinet. She poured two glasses and handed you one of them.

“Thanks” you muttered.

Alex hummed an of course in response, before going to sit down in the classy living room. You sat across from her, sipping your scotch lightly. The blonde looked you dead in the eye, as she sighed.

“Liz told me a bit about you and that night.”

You gulped and struggled to maintain the intense eye contact. You knew that Liz and Alex were close, really close, however it still was hard to reconcile another person knowing something so vulnerable about you. But if Liz trusted Alex with it, so did you.

“Yea… I was and am still so grateful to Lizzie for all that she did for me…” you confessed.

“Lizzie…?” Alex chuckled dryly with a cock of an eyebrow.

“Yea…” you breathily chuckled, “Her and my dad worked together…”

Alex smiled lightly in understanding, nodding along, waving her hand in the air and prompting you to continue, knowing from what Liz had said that that wasn’t the whole story.

“Yeah they were colleagues, and so I saw Lizzie at events and she’d been at my childhood home a couple times… I’d always been pretty independent, both my parents working all the time, and me being the oldest led to me getting used to being on my own. And then my parents divorced, and I got even more alone…” you sighed.

Another wave of sympathy washed over Alex’s face, as she sipped her scotch and listened intently.

“I’m sorry. I definitely know the pains of divorced parents…” Alex sighed.

You smiled lightly and nodded, before continuing you tawdry tale,

“Anyways, Lizzie was one of the only people who reached out to me, to y’know check on me and stuff. She’s always been in my corner, and she’s practically filled the role of a mother ever since the divorce…” you spoke out softly.

You could tell that Alex knew most of this, and that she was waiting for the part about how this all connected to Rita, so you cut to the chase.

“Anyways, about two years ago, I meet and started to see this guy… Looking back, he was a lot like my father, and I should have recognized the warning signs earlier… But I didn’t. And I let it go on for an entire year… Until…” you sucked in a breath, “I wound up on Lizzie’s doorstep, heart broken and bruised…”

You saw Alex’s audible gulp at your last sentence. You saw how her hand tightly clutched her glass, her knuckles almost white. With a deep breath, she nodded and prompted you to continue with her hand once more.

“Anywho, Lizzie helped me get my shit together and throw him out of my place and my life. I’d taken his abuse for a whole year, and I’m still recovering to this day from the number he did on me…” You concluded your story.

Alex then stood up and came to sit next to you on the couch you inhabited. Her hand came to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of that…” Alex sighed, “I hear you, recovery takes time.”

You took a breathy, deep breath with a shaky nod, all the memories of your past coming up as you talked about it all. But her touch was soothing. It was then that Liz emerged from the hallway and came into the living room with a sigh. The older woman sat down next to you, a hand running up and down your thigh in reassurance.

“She’s okay, Rita is going to be fine.” Liz hummed, before stealing your glass of scotch and sipping away at it.

You didn’t mind the cheeky gesture, lord knows she needed the relaxation, merely humming and nodding in response.

“She’s in the bath, and she’s asking for you…” Liz spoke once more.

You sucked in a breath and nodded, starting to stand up. As you went to leave and find Rita in the master bath, you turned back towards Liz and Alex, who were now snuggling lovingly on the couch.

“Thank you Lizzie… Really, thank you.” You breathed out shakily.

Liz met your gaze, her eyes filled with love and care, and the older woman nodded.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You nodded lightly with a small smile, before turning around and making your way to find Rita. By the time you reached the bath, you found Rita passed out in the warm water, snoring lightly and peacefully. You noted how graceful and content Rita looked asleep. Coming up to the tub, you sat down next to the rim, and proceeded to tuck a stray hair behind Rita’s ear.

She must be exhausted… you thought. And your suspicions were confirmed as the woman continued to sleep until the water in the tub threatened to go cold. It was then that you gently nudged the brunette out from her slumber. She snorted lightly as her eyes fluttered open. Her gaze still looked shattered and sad, and her lip was still lightly trembling.

“Fuck I’m mm sorry, I must have fallen asleep—” Rita rambled in a quiet mumble.

“Hush, none of that. It’s completely alright…” you comforted the woman, raising your hand for her to stop.

Rita shut her mouth and blushed a little, then shivering in the now cold bath water.

“Thanks…” she whispered.

“Of course. Now let’s get you out and into something warm…” you hummed, grabbing a fluffy towel from the bathroom cabinet and then reaching your hand out towards Rita.

Rita happily took your hand, then climbing out of the tub, then you proceeded to wrap the woman up in the warm towel.

“M-my clothes…” Rita murmured, looking to the ground as fear lurched in the pit of her stomache at the idea of having to wear her bloodied clothing.

You gently rubbed her towel wrapped shoulders with a light smile.

“I grabbed some things before we left your place, the bag is on the toilet. It will have to do for now, until we figure out what to do…” you cooed caringly.

Rita blushed lightly and muttered a thank you. You told her it’s was the least that you could do, before giving her a kiss on the forehead and leaving her in the bathroom to go through the bag and change.

As you exited the room and walked back into the living room, you found Liz and Alex right where you had left them, with Alex curled up in Liz’s arms. Liz’s head popped up from her gaze on Alex back to you as you came into the living room and took a seat on an opposing couch, with a pondering look on your face.

“I know that look…” Liz hummed cheekily, taking another sip of your scotch, “What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

You bit your lip, pulling out your phone, before looking over to Liz.

“I was thinking about maybe calling Barba…” you mused aloud, your mind questioning on what to do next.

At this, Alex perked up to. Liz’s eyes widened and her expression was a knowing one, one that quickly understood your line of thought.

“I see… What did Rita say?” Liz hummed, placing the scotch back on the table and much to Alex’s delight starting to massage the young blonde’s shoulders.

You looked away from Liz at her words, and back to your phone.

“When I asked where she could go, she said not Rafael… I know that their friends, she’s mentioned him before… But he could help…” you sighed, inwardly conflicted.

Liz sighed at your admission. And she seemed to be in deep thought for a moment before she spoke,

“When you came to me, did I call anyone…?” The older woman asked you.

You bit your lip and sighed.

“No…”

“Exactly. Even though I wanted to… Probably would have called Liv, but I didn’t. Because you didn’t want me to.” Liz spoke,

You once again looked to the ground instead of meeting the older woman’s gaze.

“I’m not saying that Barba is a bad idea…” she slowly explained, “I think that it would be best if we ask Rita first.”

“Ask me what?” Rita’s timid voice echoed through the expansive living room and kitchen.

All three of your heads swiveled with extreme speed to the end of the hallway where the brunette stood. She padded her way through part of the kitchen and then into the living room. You immediately scooted over and lightly waved her over to come and sit. Rita did exactly that before repeating her question, more vocal this time.

“What did you want to ask me first?” The woman spoke.

Liz and Alex immediately eyed you, quirking their eyebrows and very clearly telling you that since this was your idea, you were the one who was going to say something. You gulped, turning your body more towards the group. Your gaze met Rita’s and you reached your hands out to grasp her left available hand and reassuringly squeeze it.

“I… We were talking about maybe calling Liv… or Barba…” you shakily breathed out, squeezing her hand lovingly while speaking to comfort the woman.

The same panic from earlier this night came rushing back to the woman’s gaze. But she was a little more collected now, and she seemed to handle the surge of emotions better this time around.

“I…” Rita stammered, “I don’t know…”

She slumped forward a bit and closed her eyes, a singular tear escaping her eyes. You immediately extended your arm and brought the brunette into your soft embrace.

“That’s okay. We can deal with all that later… How are you feeling…?” You gently spoke.

“Exhausted…” Rita choked out, “and stupid… like it’s all my fault…!”

The broken defense lawyer turned completely towards you, clinging to your frame as she began to cry into your shoulder. You gently caressed her back and shoulders reassuringly.

“That’s it, it’s going to be ok, Rita… It’s all going to be okay…” you soothed the woman.

“B-but how do you know that…?”

You sighed.

“Because… I’ve been through something eerily similar…”

At this, Rita pulled back and looked at you with eyes full of empathy.

“I’m so sorry…” she uttered, fully processing the words you had just spoken.

You smiled lightly and cupped Rita’s face.

“It’s okay… I’m past that now. Now I’m here for you… Now how about bed…?” You hummed caringly.

Rita nodded and hummed a soft thank you, before you guided the woman up and to one of Liz’s many guest bedrooms. You stayed with her until she was asleep, which didn’t take too long, but you stayed nonetheless, before then turning in for the night yourself in another guest room, which Liz had so kindly offered you.

~~

Rita spent the rest of the weekend at Liz’s. Liz and Alex were more than happy to host, and they graciously let you stay as well to keep an eye on the broken brunette.

Then come Monday morning, you were walking into the SVU squad room with Rita anxiously by your side. You grabbed her shaky hand and squeezed it reassuringly, as your other hand rapped on Captain Liv Benson’s office door. Neither of you expected Barba to swing the door open, and he sure as hell didn’t expect to see Rita.

Liv ushered you in, and Rafael could immediately sense something was wrong. Rafael simply closed the door behind you, not bothering to leave.

“Rita, Y/N, how can I help you?” Liv spoke.

Rita shuffled her feet and looked to the ground. You squeezed her hand again and whispered that it was going to be okay.

“Wait what is going on…?” Rafael cut in.

Liv sent Barba a warning glance for him to be quiet to let you or Rita speak. You gently looked towards the brunette, whose lip was now trembling.

“I… I was raped…” Rita shakily breathed out, as a small tear rolled down her left cheek.

~~~

Part 2 with a happy ending…? Or maybe something more angsty…? 😏

Alex Cabot Masterlist

Olivia Benson Masterlist

Rita Calhoun Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

Elizabeth Donnelly Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

Rafael Barba Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

[mariacallous]

https://factkeepers com/trump-was-utterly-indifferent-to-the-public-interest-in-his-first-term/

The Revolving Door Project on Monday released a set of reports on corruption and mismanagement in executive agencies during the Trump presidency, calling on the media to focus on presumptive Republican nominee Donald Trump’s poor governing record as he campaigns to retake the Oval Office.

The new reports, called “retrospective memos,” show that Trump’s executive branch was rife with cronyism and corporate influence from 2017 until 2021. RDP, a watchdog group focused on the executive branch, released the reports as a way to fight “Trumpnesia” and focus the political discussion on the governance records of Trump and President Joe Biden, a Democrat seeking reelection.

“Donald Trump’s most important legacy as president wasn’t what he said, or even what bills he signed, but how he turned the federal government into a favor machine to benefit his family and cronies,” Jeff Hauser, RDP’s executive director, said in a statement. “The media should not focus on the aesthetics of this week’s presidential debate but rather cover the Biden vs. Trump election as a comparison between how each president administered the immensely important executive branch.”

“It’s important to revisit how poorly he ran the executive branch his first time round.”

RDP issued eight memos, covering disaster management, the environment, financial regulation, housing, immigration, labor, education, and transportation.

Each provides evidence of a Trump administration that was “utterly indifferent to the public interest,” as Timi Iwayemi, RDP’s research director, said in the statement.

In many cases, Trump appointees were hostile to the original aims of the agencies they served.

Mick Mulvaney, Trump’s choice to lead the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, tried to roll back rules limiting predatory payday lending—a practice that “preys on the working poor,” the financial regulation memo says.

Mulvaney—who’s now suggesting a “revenge-a-thon” against Trump’s foes—also appointed political cronies and failed to undertake the enforcement actions against companies that were the CFPB’s raison d’être. A 2019 feature in The New York Times Magazine was titled, “Mick Mulvaney’s Master Class in Destroying a Bureaucracy From Within.”

Trump’s National Labor Relations Board was led by Peter Robb, a management-side lawyer who was the Reagan administration’s lead attorney on litigation dealing with the air traffic controllers’ strike of 1981, in which the federal government fired about 11,000 workers and banned them from being rehired. Like Trump’s Department of Labor, which was ultimately run by the son of former Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, the NLRB under Robb was pro-management—and reportedly dysfunctional.

Other federal agencies were hardly more committed to serving the public interest in the late 2010s.

“Trump’s Interior Department advanced the interests of extractivist industry on public lands while refusing to account for how its actions would worsen climate change,” according to RDP’s environment memo. “The Trump administration auctioned off over 10 million acres of land and water to oil and gas drilling, including by drastically reducing the size of national monuments like Bears Ears in Utah, a sacred homeland to five tribal nations, in order to open them up to development.”

The Department of Housing and Urban Development, run by former presidential candidate Ben Carson, was plagued by “handouts to friends and family,” a series of “deadly budget cut proposals,” and a “war on fair housing,” according to the RDP’s housing memo.

Trump’s disaster management choices were particularly consequential. The Federal Emergency Management Agency ” horrifically” mismanaged the response to two consecutive hurricanes that hit Puerto Rico in 2017, which got minimal—and very delayed—relief compared to Texas communities that were hit by a hurricane during that period.

RDP’s catalog of Trump administration failures is designed to clarify the stakes of the 2024 election.

“The series serves as a reminder to the public that the president’s primary responsibility is to direct the vast apparatus known as the executive branch of the federal government,” RDP said. “Sadly, former president Donald Trump either neglected this responsibility or wielded it in favor of corporations throughout his four years in office.”

Iwayemi said “Even as current conversations wisely focus on Project 2025 and Trump’s promise to leverage executive power to harm political enemies, it’s important to revisit how poorly he ran the executive branch his first time round as a cure to the public’s apparent Trumpnesia.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nero Rose || Mob!Steve Rogers

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Detective!Reader

Warning: None

Words Count: 1,539

Summary: She has bad blood towards the famous gangster leader called Steve Rogers. With his influences, he sent her to the outskirts city. Then one day, you received a called that said Steve Rogers wanted to talk to you. When you come back and meet him again, something terrible happens. 

This is the story of the enemy-to-lovers.

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments. 💖😘

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

A crowded street, sounds of car horns, smell of piss. All the little things made you miss New York.

It's been 8 months since you left the city. It wasn't your choice to be exact. You left because the head of the police demoted you from detective to traffic police. 

You want to protest but it's impossible since your opponent is the powerful mob in the city. 

Steve Rogers is the king of the mafia. His power in business, politics and network in the underworld made him unbeatable. No one can bring him down. 

Until you did. 

You found the drugs and weapons that connected to Rogers. You got him good. And the media and citizens also support you. 

But you have no support when it comes to law and politics. The almighty Steve Rogers has given money to the judge and governor that could give them a third family. He also paid the best lawyer. 

In the end, he only spent 3 nights in jail and went home. While you got sent to the outskirts city. You hate your boss and everyone. It took a while for you to accept the new life you have.

When you started to let it go, you suddenly got a call from the chief of police. 

-Flashback Start-

He said, "Steve Rogers got stabbed."

You don't understand what's the point he told you this "Cheers for me. You want me to attend his funeral? I will wear white."

"He's still alive."

You scoffed "Too bad."

"He's a victim but he doesn't want to talk. He said that he only wants to talk to you."

-Flashback End-

That's why you return to New York. You want to see the look on his face, being pale and weak after getting hurt.

But before that, you're going to buy flowers. A gift for sick patients. You picked a perfect one for him. At the flower shop, you pointed at one flower. "I want that one."

The shop employee is an elderly woman. Her name is Sienna. You've known her since you were a kid. She's a joyful and funny grandma. 

Sienna raised her eyebrows and looked at the flower you chose. She picked the flowers one by one. "That's an odd choice to visit a sick person. It means 'You're dead to me.'"

You smirked "Is that what it means? Even better." 

You gave her the money after you received the flower bucket. "You're the best Sienna. I'll see you tomorrow."

She gave a warm smile "Bye, Y/N ."

You arrived at the hospital and immediately saw one of his trusted right hands. Bucky Barnes. He's standing outside while smoking. 

He put out his cigarette when he saw you "Detective Y/N."

You rolled your eyes "Fuck off. Where is he?"

Bucky scoffed and brought you to the VIP room. Before he opened the door, you could hear people talking, and laughing from inside the room. 

When the door got open, and you walked inside, everyone turned silent and looked at you. All of them are wearing black suits. 

8 months without seeing any mafia made you forget that you just entered enemy territory.

You gathered any courage that you had and walked towards the patient. You expect Steve to be pale, weak, and lying motionless on his bed since he got stabbed.

But your expectations betrayed you. In front of you, Steve Rogers is sitting like a boss with a half robe opened that shows his torsos tattoos. His hair even got combed to the back. He doesn't look sick.

"Aww, you bring me a gift. Thank you detective Y/N."

There it is. He always finds a way to make you angry. He knew you're not a detective anymore. You hate to admit it, even though he's a jerk, gangster, and narcissist. His face and his body are your type. 

Many fish in the sea but why do you have to like a man like him?

You clicked your tongue and then gave the flower to him "I ordered this for your funeral to be honest."

"Thank you doll." He handed the flower to his subordinate. "Did you buy this from the Sienna flower shop?"

"How did you know?"

"From the wrapping paper, the ribbon. I'm her loyal customer." He winked at you.

Well, that's something you learned from him. Perhaps he bought flowers for his girlfriend. 

You cleared your throat then grabbed a note and pencil from the pocket of your leather jacket.

"So what kind of person would dare to stab the gangster leader? That culprit must be crazy or a serial killer."

Suddenly the room turned quiet. Everyone is looking at you, including Steve. 

"You're right. Not even my rival dared to pick a fight with me. I could feel it. It's not them."

You crossed your arms "Why did you ask me to come here?"

"Since you left the city is not safe anymore. See? I got hurt. And, perhaps I missed the time we spent together."

You gritted your teeth. Geez, his words could make anyone misunderstood. The moment you spend with him is at the court or police station. 

The police station became an event. Paparazzi is always there, the media, he even invites a private chef to bring his lunch and dinner.

When you interrogate him, he always has wine beside him. It's impossible to make him stop since he got the best lawyer Matt Murdock. The famous lawyer who defends crooked people and always wins. 

You should've known that you have lost. 

"Enough with the jokes. What do you want?"

"I'm offering you a chance to come back. I want you to investigate my case."

"Why?"

Steve tilted his head a bit  "Because… I don't know. Maybe because I like playing with you."

You raised your voice "So you made me fly 4 hours to come here just for this?!!!"

Steve nodded. 

Oh, how he loves to see you being mad. That's his plan from the beginning. He still holds the grudge for you to make him stay in jail for three nights. 

-Flashback Start-

Steve was furious for sure when he got the letter from the court. He is the mobster leader in the city. How come a newcomer detective like you has the guts to put him to jail?

The audacity of ungrateful people. What's the point of bribing the police every month? They should've put a good leash on their member. 

Every second and every minute all he can think about is what he should do with you if both of you meet. Quick death or slow death. 

But he thinks of another plan when he finally meets you face to face. You're a new sheriff in the town. He wonders what kind of brilliant mind you have that made you able to catch him. 

When you interrogated him, you were fierce and fearless. Even the chief of the police told you to calm down but you wouldn't listen. 

Since that moment you got him interested. 

-Flashback End-

You suddenly stood up and sighed "If I had my gun, you would be bleeding right now."

"Is that a threat detective? Because I'm scared."

Bucky shook his head by looking at both of you. He turned his head to watch the TV. He widened his eyes when he saw the headline news. 

He turned up the volume "Steve, you should see this."

Both of you stopped arguing and looked at the TV. 

"Breaking news. Another stabbed victim at the well known flower shop called Sienna Flower's. The victim is a 77 years old female. Witnesses said the victim was closing the shop when she got stabbed. The paramedics informed us that the victim got stabbed on the chest and lost her life on the way to the hospital."

You gasped. "Sienna." You couldn't believe it. You just left the shop for an hour and something terrible happened. You lost your old friend. 

On your left, Steve only sees red. He clenched his fist. Sienna is a sweet old lady. His mother always went there and he always bought flowers from that shop for his mother.  

What kind of heartless person wants to hurt a kind person like Sienna? He will chase the culprit until the end of the earth.

"Boys."

"YES BOSS!!!"

"Gather everyone to check on that area. Everyone gathered all the information. I will kill that person by myself."

All his subordinates left the room after they got the order. 

After they left, Steve tried to stand up from his bed "Urgh." 

When he touches his left waist, you finally see his wound. It's still bleeding.

"Are you crazy? You can't move yet."

You're right. The stabbed wound was deep. If the painkiller runs out, this wound will be painful. The doctor told Steve that couldn't move his body freely for a week. And he doesn't want to get another stitch. 

Suddenly he got an idea. 

Steve leaned his body towards you and whispered in your ear, "Detective do you want to work together to catch who killed Sienna?"

You looked at his eyes. It never crossed your mind to work together with gangster leaders like Steve Rogers. But with his mafia connections, you could catch the culprits quicker. 

"Heck yeah."

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments. 💖😘

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

[eretzyisrael]

By: Ronn Torossian

The day after hundreds of Pro-Hamas protestors rallied outside of a Manhattan cancer hospital, we learn that the organization which hosts these heinous rallies throughout New York City calling for an elimination to the State of Israel, and mass murder of Jews is funded by Goldman Sachs. Full stop. Period.

Goldman Sachs, one of the largest banks in the world has given $18 Million Dollars to The People’s Forum which organizes these rallies. Goldman Sachs has a fund, where donors send money to send nonprofits and rather than Goldman Sachs saying no, we will not send money to an organization which supports rape and terror, they sign the checks. And Goldman Sachs funds it. Goldman Sachs can refuse to sign the checks – they choose not to.  It has been ongoing.

Manolo De Los Santos of the People’s Forum gave a speech Monday in New York City where he said “When we finally deal that final blow to destroy Israel. When the state of Israel is finally destroyed and erased from history, that will be the single most important blow we can give to destroying capitalism.”

The speech preceded a rally, “Flood Manhattan for Gaza MLK Day”, during which pro-Hamas protestors walked the streets of Manhattan blocking traffic, and eventually they protested outside Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, a hospital. As The New York Post reported protestors screamed:  “Make sure they hear you. They’re in the window,” one organizer said through a bullhorn, and another in the crowd chanted, about the cancer center, “MSK, shame on you, you support genocide, too.”

These are people who support rape and baby-killing. On October 7th, the leader of The People’s Forum tweeted about “the heroic resistance of the Palestinian people”, and “the struggle for the national liberation in Palestine.” On October 7 in Manhattan. These protests are a clear call for murder with chants of “Free Palestine from The River to the Sea”, and “Intifada Now” are calls for violence and murder of Jews.

Authorities allow these terrorist Anti-Semitic supporters to block traffic, disrupt the city and threaten Jews. The People’s Forum has hosted Anti-Semitic rallies in NYC since October 8th they are well-funded and well organized  and there are also events on Karl Marx, Vladimir Lenin and “the path to revolution.” In the New York Post, a 74-year-old Jewish woman was quoted as saying, “I thought I was in Germany in 1939.” She is right, and in 2024 the free world is either with us or against us. Goldman Sachs is funding calls for the mass murder of Jews. Goldman Sachs is signing checks which pays for Anti-Semitic events in New York City. It must end now. It’s not unlike Outten Golden, a leading law firm in New York City, where their lawyer Kathleen Peratis has visited the Hamas deadly terror tunnels multiple times, praised Hamas leaders, openly opposes a Jewish state and supports BDS.

Elie Wiesel rightfully said: “I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides.” Goldman Sachs stop funding this.

[daresplaining]

Hiya~! You're always in the back of my mind as a kind and knowledgeable source for Daredevil. ♥

Do you know if it has ever been revealed exactly what chemical blinded Matt? Or even where it was coming from/going in the middle of the city? My knowledge of comic books exploiting all potential plots makes me feel like this is a thread that would have been pulled at some point over the last 60 years, but I don't see anything.

Aah, thank you! That's a great question, and the answer is that a lot of these details have actually been kept vague. There have been a lot of retellings of Matt's origin, but they haven't explored the actual context/nuances of the accident that much and the details they have included have tended to be inconsistent. The thing that blinded Matt was a radioactive substance of some kind, but visual depictions have varied wildly, from a glowing "radioactive cylinder" to leaky barrels of toxic sludge.

Matt's accident depicted by Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, and Glynis Wein (left); and by Chris Samnee and Javier Rodriguez (right).

As I mentioned, the details of the accident itself also vary. In Daredevil #1, we learn that the substance that blinded Matt was being transported by Ajax Atomic Labs, and that the accident was caused by the truck's brakes malfunctioning:

Daredevil vol. 1 #1 by Stan Lee, Bill Everett, and Sam Rosen

In Daredevil #164's origin rehashing, Roger McKenzie tells us that it was the army transporting bomb materials through the city, and that the accident was caused by the driver suffering a sudden heart attack:

Daredevil vol. 1 #164 by Roger McKenzie, Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, Glynis Wein, and John Costanza

Perhaps most compellingly (at least to me), Tony Stark's notes on Daredevil in the Civil War Files identify a Stark Industries project (under the leadership of Tony's father) as the source of the substance, which is referred to as radioactive waste:

Civil War Files #1 by Anthony Flamini, Stuart Vandal, Ronald Byrd, Madison Carter, et al.

Mark Waid added one more detail, which gave voice to something that had previously just been implied: that this dangerous substance—whatever it was—was not supposed to be going through a populated area at all:

Caption: "That's when the driver opted to finally look up. His tires screaming, his cargo tumbled loose. It had been secured with the same kind of care one would expect—from a fly-by-night company that thought it'd be okay to illegally transport toxic waste through New York traffic." Daredevil vol. 3 #23 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, Javier Rodriguez, and Joe Caramagna

To this, I might add the inference that it was likely being driven through Hell's Kitchen in particular because it was (at that time) a low income neighborhood where the authorities would be less likely to notice or care.

Waid's description of the accident, and the visual of barrels of toxic waste rather than a radioactive cylinder, are reminiscent of the alternate universe version of Matt's origin that Frank Miller and John Romita, Jr. presented in Man Without Fear—which also included the juicy detail of lawyers for the corporation showing up at Matt and his father's apartment afterward and strong-arming Jack into not pressing charges.

But yes, though I understand keeping the science involved in superhero origin stories non-specific, this is definitely an area of the Daredevil lore that could use further clarification. For real-world inspiration, here's an interesting New York Times article from 1985 about the transportation of nuclear waste through New York City. This part in particular seems relevant, and fits the timing of the publication of Daredevil #1 in 1964:

"Brookhaven has had a nuclear reactor operating since 1954. From 1954 to 1976, the spent fuel - radioactive uranium - was carried by truck into New York City, across the 59th Street Bridge, north on Third Avenue and across town to the George Washington Bridge. It then went south to a site in South Carolina for reprocessing. But in 1976 the city passed a local law banning the shipments, and triggering a battle over who has authority to control the shipments."

Maybe Matt was blinded by radioactive uranium? That transport route doesn't hit Hell's Kitchen at all, but I will also point out that Matt's childhood neighborhood wasn't specified as being Hell's Kitchen until Daredevil #164. At the very least, we know that toxic stuff was going through Manhattan in 1964, so if you were interested in a potential real-world source for more details to add to Matt's accident, that seems like a good place to look.

[bloodandhedonism]

RAPID-FIRE QUICK OPINIONS OF CITIES I'VE BEEN TO IN RECENT HISTORY

Rochester, New York (and other upstate NY cities in general) : Feels generic, but perhaps not necessarily in a bad way in this case. A resident said it's rare to see and live a place where kids still play in the front yard these days, so take as you will. New York, New York: What you'd expect these days. Allentown, Pennsylvania: Lots of industrial traffic as you'd expect, but cute town and good people. I made multiple and different kinds of friends here, which I consider very good for this sort of thing. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Homey. Don't go too far west, though or you'll run into Pennsylvanians. Remember James Carville! Baltimore, Maryland: Cutesy, gives vibes of home. Funny to see products from businesses by people I grew up with in places there. Washington, DC: It really does try to be a commercial with everyone perfectly chosen from central casting. Bad vibes, avoid, avoid. Get out if you live there. Imperial capital though, what does one expect. Norfolk, Virginia: Military city as you'd expect, and by far the most "Southern" feeling city in this list. Interesting contrast between the attempted beachiness and the dominating military stuff. St. Augustine, Florida: The best city in Florida by far, but losing its soul over the years and I'm very worried. Flagler College students will be window dressing for the upscale middle-aged tourists coming there. Tampa, Florida: Genuinely horrible. Worst city on this list, one huge slum posing as a 'regular' city. Unfriendly people. Telling every other billboard is for a lawyer promising to get you big money. Bad sign of the future. Orlando, Florida: Better than Tampa I suppose, but leaning way too hard into being Red State America's family vacation Mecca, which will lead to issues for it in the future. This city isn't for me. Denver, Colorado: People there like me, at least one person recognized my face from before, and mountains are cool. Las Vegas, Nevada: Very middlebrow, which I don't say as a compliment. Seeing middle aged people in cosplay out in public in non-convention contexts was embarrassing. Only interesting bit was seeing where Balrog's Street Fighter II stage was IRL. Reykjavik, Iceland: Neat place. Felt like the USA but cold and barren, of course. Icelandics are a unique people, and a small part of me almost wants to classify Iceland with North America than Europe since the society just feels different from regular Europe. I always thought it was worth noting the tectonic plate cleaves through the island. London, England: Honest with itself in that it's big, very big, and touristy too, which for said honesty reasons I respect it. I liked it. British people really are the Americans of Europe. I shouldn't, but I like the UK. I will visit the midlands soon, so I hope to see a fun contrast. Brussels, Belgium: Also an honest city, in this case in that it's a transnational confederal capital for a lot of places. Mons, Belgium: Lovely. Friendly and great people. Taking the train to it and seeing the scenes of rural life reminded me of the countryside I'd see back home. Paris, France: Genuinely lovely, and my favorite city of this list. More cities should be like Paris. I didn't see or deal with any of the bad stuff I heard about it. Friendly people. I need to go back here. Frankfurt, Germany: Definitely generic. Lisbon, Portugal: Touristy because it's warm and honest with itself about it in that case, which is also fine. I like warm weather so I liked Lisbon. Warsaw, Poland: Likable. Quite a nice city, and Poles are a very welcoming people. (Be proud of your country, @aomitois.) A friendliness emanated from the city which I liked. Has an optimism which I find intriguing. Budapest, Hungary: Strangely, I was reminded most of Salisbury, Maryland with this one: there was an odd familiarity driving and walking through the city. Like with Warsaw, it's legitimately trying hard, but that makes sense for Eastern Europe in this era.

I'm sure there's more cities that can go on here, probably a lot more, but this is off the top of my head and the entry is big enough as is. COMING SOON: The Middle East and East Asia! Maybe Latin America. Africa is more likely than Australia. Watch as I wind up in Antarctica for some dumb reason.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Darrell Lucus at Loud, Liberal, Christian:

If you listen to Donald Trump’s diehard supporters, we aren’t supposed to be able to walk and chew gum at the same time. That’s about the only conclusion you can draw from their reaction to Trump being shot at during a rally this past Saturday in Butler, Pennsylvania. With the notable exception of a staffer for Congressman Bennie Thompson of Mississippi who either resigned or was fired after telling the shooter, “don’t miss next time,” Democrats have risen with one voice to condemn this for the abomination that it is. As I write this, a little over 50 hours have passed since the shooting. In that time, the Democrats have extended more grace to Trump than he ever has extended to them in the eight-plus years since he came down the Trump Tower escalator. The same people whom Trump attacked as enemies of the American people and targeted with degrading and sometimes blatantly racist language showed Trump a concept that he hasn’t even begun to understand—mercy and compassion. As the messages from Democrats poured in, I was reminded of passages in Scripture that liken showing compassion for your foes to pouring “hot coals,” “burning coals,” or “coals of fire” (depending on the translation) on their heads.

[...] While digging into this, I learned that the reference to coals came from an old Egyptian custom in which penitent men carried bowls of burning coals on their heads as a sign of repentance. Supposedly, showing kindness and compassion to an enemy could lead to shame and repentance. Unfortunately, any hopes of Trump showing any sense of shame were put to rest on Monday when he named Senator J. D. Vance of Ohio as his running mate. Vance is part of a long list of never-Trumpers who have morphed into full-on Trump diehards since 2016. If Vance’s morph isn’t the most opportunistic, it’s pretty close. In 2016, he told PBS Newshour that from where he was sitting, part of Trump’s appeal was based on racist tropes.

[...] But that doesn’t go far enough for a number of Republicans. A number of them have claimed that Democrats from President Biden on down bear responsibility for this tragedy for spending the last three-plus years attacking Trump for his not-so-veiled authoritarian inclinations. That rings extremely hollow from a party with a smorgasbord of elected officials who openly traffic in violence. But on a more practical level, Trump’s diehards expect Democrats to ignore the facts. They expect us to ignore the mountain of evidence from the published record that shows Trump was ranting about the election being stolen from him when he knew or reasonably should have known that he had lost. Specifically, it has been amply demonstrated that as early as a week after the election, Trump had to have known he had lost. Specifically, Trump campaign lawyer Steffan Passantino told The New York Times that his colleagues had known by then that talk of Dominion-powered voting machines in Georgia switching votes—the very basis for the Big Lie—was complete, unadulterated bullshit. He certainly knew by November 20, when the Republican leaders of Michigan’s Republican-controlled state legislature told him that they had no information that could overturn Biden’s lead there. The lawmakers later told The Washington Post that they believed at that moment, they believed Trump’s “blinders had fallen off.” This is critical, because Trump absolutely, positively, could not win without holding Michigan. They also expect us to ignore people like Roger Stone. In the Danish documentary “A Storm Foretold,” a film that figured very prominently in the January 6 hearings, Stone was caught on tape admitting that he knew Trump had lost. 

Darrell Lucus wrote a solid Substack post on why it’s imperative to both call out Donald Trump for the bad he’s done while still extending grace to him in the wake of the assassination attempt against him Saturday.

[kristineciganek]

Clarkstown New York Traffic Lawyer: Kristine Ciganek

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[gepgep2]

The entire system is entirely different from what they say... every pound of the government debt they pay off, there has to be a pound of private debt created. It's actually a perfect balance... as soon as the government pays off its debt, private debt has to go up. The only way they can balance the budget is if you can't. Which is really interesting because the entire idea of austerity is to convince you it's the other way around...

Politicians don't actually know this. They don't know where banks create money...

'Banks create money by making loans. All that stuff they teach you in economics 101- it's not right.' So they admitted that, but nobody paid any attention and they just carried on pretending that this wasn't the case. But the implications of this are enormous.

We can make up money. Money is just promises that we make to each other. All a debt is, is a promise. It has no moral difference than any other promise... this is the real point of my 500 page book on debt; the punch line is: society itself is just a bunch of promises we make to each other. So is money. That's all it is. But normal promises- if I promise to meet you at 5:00, and then my mother dies, you're not going to expect me to show up. We readjust those promises when circumstances change. And with rich people that's still true. If rich people lend each other a lot of money, something happens- the economy collapses, there's a crisis- you know, if you're Donald Trump they'll say 'oh nevermind.' They'll wipe it out... They bail them out all the time.

Even in 2008 they bailed out American Insurance Group, they bailed out all the banks that said they were too big to fail, they didn't bail out mortgage holders. Well why is that?

...The bad debt was based on bad mortgage loans. If they just paid the mortgage owners and bailed them out, that money would've gone to the banks and bailed out the banks. Instead they chose to bail out the banks directly and leave the mortgage holders dangling in debt. Why was that?

Because they don't want you to know any of this. They don't want you to know that debts can easily be renegotiated any time they like. It's not a problem. They do this for each other all the time. But they want you to think that this is some absolute moral obligation. Even though they don't think it's an obligation to each other at all- they readjust this stuff all the time...

[debt] permeates our lives in ways we don't realize. For example, one of the most unexpected things I found was the case of Ferguson, Missouri. Famous case where they had this incredibly racist police enforcement where basically every black person in the city- which was most of the city- had been arrested at least once and had outstanding warrants, and they were constantly making the laws as complicated as possible so that you'd miss your court date for a traffic ticket, and be locked up. It turns out that the police were basically extracting money from the poorest parts of the population to pay the debt, because the amount they got in fines every year was exactly equivalent to the municipal debt of Ferguson. So the police were basically paying off the city debt by shaking down the most vulnerable people- basically people who didn't have lawyers. They figure if you're black you probably don't have a lawyer so they can just round you up and extract the money. And they just put them in jail and say 'okay you owe us $500 for that broken tail light.' and after a week if you couldn't get the family to pay they'd say 'okay, $250?'

and they'd like, negotiate until they got as much money as they thought the family had. And they'd just do this to everybody regularly.

This is the way policing works in America and increasingly in other places once municipal debt takes hold.

In New York at one point the cops were mad at the mayor so they went on strike, and they said that they were only going to do 'essential police work' which basically meant they were only going to fight crime, which is about 5% of what they do.

But they just didn't harass people and round them up to do fines to pay off the city debt. So city income collapsed, it was the most effective police strike ever.

... and the other thing about debt is that it makes everyone ashamed. Everyone thinks that this is something that happened to them...

There's no one who isn't actually involved in the artificial creation of debt because that's how our economy works: basically the way our economy works is rich people bribe politicians to create policies which are intentionally calculated to put people in debt. It's the same way that most banks actually nowadays make most of their money off fees and penalties. They make the rule so complicated that they know a certain percent, usually a majority of people, will make mistakes. And then they say 'well it's not our fault if you can't balance a checkbook.'

and they fine you and extract the money, and that's their main source of profit. Similarly they're constantly calculating how to make rules that seem reasonable but will make sure that everyone ends up in debt, and then they sell the debt to each other.

[eastcoastboyos]

Awestruck

Assembing in the kitchen of our airBnB, the boyos scarfed down leftovers and cereal. Blake tackled last night's taco meat like a champ despite waking up with the snifffles. The disease has spread.

Zipping over to Kennedy Space Center, the boys hustled to the bus tour line having learned the night before that it is a must do according to Reddt. The tour takes you around the massive shuttle assembly building via roads lined with canals (where I saw my first gator!) and deposits you at the Saturn V rocket building.

Not really knowing what the Saturn V was, the boys and I went through an introductionary video and mock control room, which simulated the first launch of USA into space. Absolutely incredible. The windows chattering with the rocket launch, the lights flickering on the actual control panels as operator voices echoed simultaneously, you really did feel like you were there in the launch room on such of a historic moment.

Exiting this room with a horde of blind folk, the boys were gob smacked, rounding a corner and coming right up to the massive rear engine boosters of an actual Saturn V rocket above our heads. Jaws dropped as we marveled at the scale and complexity of the machine.

Exploring the area, we encountered another phenomenal theater simulating the moon landing and marveled at the moon rocks, space suits, and lunar buggys around us. Blake and I joked about the Apollo 11 error code 1202 with our own error codes: 8008 for boob and 9009 for making a poop.

Finishing our exploration of Saturn V, the boys bussed back to the main compound and headed into the Atlantis Space Shuttle Building. Representing the next phase of NASA spacecraft, we were treated to another informative video on the origin of the vessel and an appreciation for the decade of engineering to design the shuttle. To our awe once again, after the imerisve shuttle launch video finished, the video screens rolled up to reveal the actual Atlantis space shuttle behind. 🤯

If our brain chunks weren't already sxattered enough, beside the large space shuttle Atlantis was a small glass box containing the actual wood and paper concept model for the shuttle built ten years prior of the first shuttle launch. Having this massive machine and simple model side by side was such an incredible symbol of engineering design to creation. We all agreed how inspirational everything was.

Goofing around, the boys played with space toilets, I reviewed some employment contract details, and we discussed favourite roller coasters while in line for the cockpit launch simulator, another winner. Some somber moments were had looking at the Challenger and Discovery debris and Joel remarked how KSC had you like "Shittttttt" and then the next moment, a quiet and reflective "shit....".

Taking a quiet snooze in the car, some of the boys recuperated as we made the final stretch to Miami Beach: 2200km in total. Discussing the long term debt cycle, toll road uncertainty, the abundance palm trees and canals, and the worst traffic and drivers we've seen thus far, the boys made it to Miami as the sun was setting. Dylan remarked at the endless lawyer billbords such as "I heart my attorney, 300k" and noted: " Half this country's entire economy is lawyers sueing everone".

Our airBnB is in a cool Latin area, and after obtaining some missing sheets, the boys downed some Corona's, slapped each of with tortillas, placed Georgie on the mantel, and head out on the town. Miami Beach is saturated with art Deco and our heads swiveled as we looked at them lit up in the night with color. Miami Beach is bumping.

Sports cars, fancy outfits, mango strip clubs, gangs on ATVs and motor bikes, the place's energy seem to match New York. Things seem full circle. After resting on the grass for a moment to process everything, (#fiveIntroverts) the boys grabbed margaritas and nachos at Oh Mexico. Letting the night fall late to the sound sof Latin musc, we savored reminiscing about the trip while periodically singing Happy birthday in Spanish.

We miss you Ben.

Derek