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abbofff · 6 months ago

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How I Met My Trauma-Bound Brother

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Hi, my name is Ada Williams. I, like many other unfortunate souls, am a daughter of a Greek god. Yes, those exist. No, I'm not crazy (at least not that much). I could go on and on about of my particular childhood and the struggles I got from seeing and experiencing things that adults said were impossible. But I might as well start with one of the very few moments that being a halfblood wasn't that bad.

So this set us up a couple of years ago in September. I had just turned 10 years old a couple days before and I was coming home from my new school I was at because I got expelled from my last one due to some trouble I got into that wasn't my fault. I mean, how could I have knocked the wind out of a bully if I didn't even punch him? I mean, yeah, sure, I really wanted to, but I wasn't going to do it and, of course, no one believed me.

Anyway, on the way home, I saw an oddly large Tibetan Mastiff walking down the street, and for a second, I thought it was really cute until it started barking and chasing me. I ran through the streets of Manhattan until my legs felt like they were burning and my lungs hurt, which led me to an alley with a very rabid dog on my back a couple of meters away from me. On my last hope of not being torn apart, I grabbed a rusty metal rung that had apparently fallen off the damaged fire escape next to me. My grip on the step was slippery thanks to sweaty hands and that I felt more scared than I had ever been.

I didn't know why God was so determined to make me his best warrior, but I tried to ask him to please let me go home to my mom. The dog (who had grown a lot compared to a few moments ago) jumped towards me and I felt a surge of adrenaline and a tingling in my hands with which I managed to grab the metal tightly and as soon as I was going to hit him with the piece of metal a thunder hit the ground and my back hit the wall of the candy store next door. The last thing I saw before I fell unconscious was the dog disintegrating into dust and a lady in a red, white and blue uniform running towards me.

When I woke up I was siting in a chair on a corner with the left of my head rest against the grey bricked wall with a blue coat covering me. I was on what it seemed a storage room filled with a lot of candys and the best smell ever. In front of me, a couple meters away, blonde kid who looked my age was resting his right side against the open door with his arms crossed.

- Mom! The strange girl is awake! - He said as he was looking at me with the most stranged look.

- Percy! Don't say that. - Said a woman appearing behind her son.

- Hi, little one. My name is Sally and he is Percy, my son. How are you feeling? Don't worry, I have already called the ambulance a couple of minutes ago, so they must be on their way already, and when they get here, they can find your parents. -

I loved her voice. It made me feel at ease, it reminded me to my mom. Oh no, my mom. Trought the open door I could see a glass window that view to the street bathed on a sunsets glow. Mom must be home from court already and worrying sick.

- Im feeling good. Thank you for getting me into safety, ma'am. What time is it? - I asked as I got up and grabbed the coat off of me, the boy that now I know was Percy grabbed it and put it on a shelf.

- It must already be past 5pm, I believe - Sally said. - But don't worry, sitting still its the best thing to do now. Listen, I'll wait outside for the ambulance, ok? - She said in a reassuring tone. Then, she looked back at her son -Percy, stay with her and see she's okay - She demanded as she walked trought the door, the boy nodded in response.

- What's your name? - He asked while tilting this head in curiosity.

- I'm Adara, but its kind of weird name so everyone just calls me Ada - Only my mom calls me Adara, and that was she was really serious. And when she was that serious, she made that dog look like a puppy.

Oh damn, the dog, it just couldn't disintegrate. I must have hit my head very hard or something. And with the way the back of my head was kinda sore I assumed that was what happened. Now, about the freaking thunder? I really have no idea, maybe a bare wire. Yes, yes totally what happened.

- Well, if we are talking about wierd names, then i win. My actual name is Perseus, but its very greek and very odd and never really finished liking it, so i just go by Percy. -

I let out a little laugh.

- What happened to you? - That damn curious boy asked.

He grabbed a chair that was behind a shelf and sit next to me and grabbed a plastic bag of blue candy. I didn't actually knew how to respond without ending up in a mental hospital.

-I got chased by a dog and I think I touched a bare wire or something and past out-

- And you are not hurt? Yeah, you are wierd but maybe in a cool way. - He said. Oh, I thought. Nobody has ever called me cool, and I was called a lot of adjectives by my dear fellow classmates.

Percy opened the bad of candy - Want one? - He asked kindly.

- Of course. -I grabbed a couple and put them in my mouth. - They are so good!! I didnt even know they selled all blue jellybeans. - He smiled fondly.

- They don't, me and my mom separated them. My stupid stepfather said blue food its not a thing. We want to prove him wrong. -

- Yeah well, he can shove his words up his butt. - I laughed and he did too. Maybe Percy wasn't that bad after all.

- Are you 10? What school do you go to? - it was my turn to ask something.

- Yup, I turn 10 in august. I don't go to school right now. I got expelled of the last one and same with the other three schools before that one. So its getting hard to find a new one. - He said like it was the most common thing in the world but he still seemed pretty sad.

His face didn't show it, it must probably be because he is used to it, I would know, I have been in his spot a lot of times.

- Oh, I'm sorry.- I smiled kindly at him, I knew exactly how he felt.

- Well, I think you are pretty cool too. So maybe you could shoot a shot at my school. -

He looked very confused.

- If you haven't already been expelled of that one at least - We laughed again.

It would be nice to start the year with a real friend. I wasn't exactly disliked in school but I was the kind of person that was kind to everyone but friend of no one. I never fit in enough to have a real friend. But I had a feeling he was different.

I told him the name of my school, and after 15 minutes waiting, his mom came back with two doctors. They checked me up and said it was nothing to worry about. After the doctors where gone Sally asked me my mom's number so she could call her. And left the room again.

- Hey, do you wanna hang out some day? We could try to make blue food If you like. - I said.

I know we just met, but I really liked him. He felt familiar, not in a way that we already had met but in a way that somehow I knew he was a good guy.

- Yeah, sure! I would love to - He responded. He sounded very exited and I was to. Then, Sally got in the room.

- Your mom's on the way, she sounded really worried but I got to calm her down. You sure you are fine, right kid? - She said pretty preoccupied.

- Yeah ma'am. Thanks a lot for the help - I turn back to look at Percy - and for the amazing blue food. - I laughed.

Suddenly my mom came in the store shouting my name. My mom's name is Amelia Williams. She was a beautiful blonde with green eyes that held the kindest of looks, although they seemed to held a worried looked almost half of the times they looked at me. I hated to make her worried, I knew life as a single mother wasn't easy but I always seemed to manage to make it a lot harder despite my tries of being good.

I came out of the storage room looking for her. And I saw her, she was still on her blue suit with stripes. She must have got off court late and on her way home when she got the call. She wrapped me in a tight hug and let out a heavy sigh.

- I'm so glad you are ok. That thing didn't bite you or anything thing? - She asked worryingly

- No, mom. The doctors said I'm good to go. - I said with a smile in hopes to calm her down.

We separated and she looked behind me. Sally and Percy were out of the storage room too now.

- Thank you so much for looking out for her. I don't know how I could ever repay you - My mom smiled fondly at Sally, and she responded with one of her own.

- Don't worry, I'm a mom too - Sally was smiling at Percy now and he was looking at his mom with a embarrassed smile.

- Well, I have an idea. - I said, and now all eyes were on me. - Could Percy come home someday? - I asked my mom with pleading eyes. Then she looked back at Sally.

- If that's alright with you, I believe we can arrange something. - My mom said.

Then Sally looked at Percy, and he gave her his own set off pleading eyes.

- Yeah sure, you already have my number anyways. - She said smiling.

After that talk and a hang out planning, my mom and I said our "see you soon" before getting in the car. And while we started making our way home, Percy and Sally waved goodbye from the candy store door while smiling.

And that's how a met my best friend, my brother.

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue x you #dior goodjohn #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo spoilers #pjo show #original character #fanfic #fanfiction #clarisse la rue fanfiction

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in-the-pocket · 9 days ago

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@jgoldberg [ Joe x Pippa ]

It was a very cold day in December when Pippa stumbled into the little bookstore she'd walked past many times. As the cold penetrated her jacket and seeped through her skin into her bones where it solidified, the young woman still smiled. She could never imagine a life without cold winters. The extra time it took to put on more layers was worth it when the cold air stung her nose.

Pippa was 27 this year. Today, had been a relatively good day by her standards. No hoarse whispers in her ears, no imaginary friends, no incessant ringing in her ear. There hadn't been a need to dampen her senses with alcohol or the various labeled drugs in her medicine cabinet. A walk would be enough medicine today. Or so she thought.

The woman pushed open the front door. There were a few others scattered around. The seemingly sole employee was already busy "helping" a woman. The two were chatting away, the woman giggling wildly and tucking her hair behind her ear. It made Pippa want to roll her eyes, but instead, she quickly walked past them.

Her little feet carried her slowly up and down the aisles, taking in the various colors and words, titles and authors. When she was younger, Pippa lamented that she'd never be able to listen to every song ever made, nor would she be able to play every song, every instrument, every note. Now, as an adult, she lamented being unable to read every book. She figured spending some quality time with these books, taking in their spines and even taking some off the shelves to read blurbs and the first few pages would suffice for now. They still deserved attention, even if she couldn't give her all.

Time slipped by and without noticing, the book store had gone quiet while she still wandered around the back, reaching the music biography section. Her eyes scanned the shelves, the corners of her mouth pulling up into a smile. Stories of the greats neatly sat pressed together. Frankie Manning, Stan Gatez, Thelonius Monk, Chet Baker, Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald. So many names she'd grown up with, from girlhood to womanhood.

Music critics around the city praised Pippa for her ability to "bring the very souls of the greats back from the dead with her electric playing". While it was flattering, Pippa hated the sentiment. She didn't bring them back. They were always there, simply using her as a conduit to keep the beauty of music alive. She owed her life to them, not the other way around.

Pippa pushed a few of her unruly red curls from her face when her eyes fell on her own face. There she was, 20 years old, holding a pair of drumsticks, young, laughing. She was in the top left of a group of other young, laughing musicians. Her classmates. Pippa had founded a club at Julliard focused on jazz revival and making it accessible to those without means to pay for performances: The Jazz Gaggle.

The weirdly talented group of friends taught the inner-city kids, fostered young talent and played in the streets of Manhattan. They shared their love for music in the purest way they knew how: being weird and spontaneous. One day, a music journalist reached out asking to write a book about the group's mission. The Young Faces of Jazz: The Story of the Julliard Jazz Gaggle.

Seven years later, she stood in a little bookstore, staring down at her smiling self on a book cover. Pippa never remembered being that happy. Then again, seven years was a long time ago.

#jgoldberg #shes having a weird surreal moment pls forgive her #also sorry that was so long it just came to me <3 #looking forward to writing with you #verse: take five

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deadboyfriendd · 2 years ago

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Hallmark | S.H.

Summary: Since graduating college, you have yet to find your niche. Now that you're home for the holidays, you realize that, not only are you alone, but so is Steve Harrington.

Warnings: Steve Harrington X Fem!Reader fluff, hallmark movie inspired because I know someone out there would rather eat a jean jacket than read this, Nancy is not a villain but there is a misunderstanding used to further the hallmark plot, not beta read.

Word Count: 5.1K

A/N: I wrote the end of this in after having the flu for a week so please excuse me if it reads like a fever dream instead of a hallmark movie. I've also never written for Steve before but he's so soft I needed to use him for this plot.

Enjoy <3

Indiana was smightingly cold at this time of year.

But not cold like New York- never cold like New York.

The weather bit at your cheeks and sunk into your bones, but at least Hawkins still had the small-town charm. It held on to its identity with an iron grip. The people here were set in their ways. They still held doors and asked about your mother in the grocery store. People still pretended to care. New York had teeth. Parsons had claws.

It hardened you like leather. It pulled the supple nature out of your personage and stretched it to dry in the sun. It scraped your softness from your hide with a knife.

New York felt like a dream. It was a dream.

According to your parents, like loan sharks circling around your schooling like an investment that was rapidly bleeding to death in the water around them, it was time to be an adult now. Whatever the hell that meant. You felt like an adult? You did adult things like getting degrees and putting down payments on cars. But a part of you still felt that post-high-school-graduation high. The world was still your oyster, right? Or had you shucked that shell altogether?

You figured you’d probably partook in too many oyster shots during your weekends perusing Fifth Ave. You wondered when vodka stopped stinging when it went down your throat.

Maybe you were old. Really really old. And sad. Only the kind of sad that adults could be. The kind where, when people asked how you were doing, you still had to say that you were just fine because they didn’t actually care enough about how you were feeling, instead opting to care for the formality of asking.

You fought the urge to check your rearview mirror for wrinkles. It was a losing battle.

The tires of your car created a deafening noise. It sounded like failure. Sure, you had the degree, but what the hell were you doing now? The sheer indignation of it was exhausting. You stopped fighting it when you’d come back to Hawkins. It drew a tired sigh from your lips, hands readjusting on the wheel just to feel grounded again.

In high school, when they asked you what you saw yourself doing in five years, you’d insisted that you’d be reintroducing your own brand of modern victorians on the Upper East Side, and while you had wreaked your own havoc on Manhattan’s Greenwich Village, you couldn’t quite find your niche.

Little people in their cape-cods and craftsmen all became blurs as you passed through your hometown. You wonder if they even knew the difference- ever cared past what the wide-mouthed, plaid-suited realtor tried to sell them on. You wondered if he even knew the difference.

You thought it was funny. People looked like their houses- in the same way that they looked like their dogs. All asynchronous beings in asynchronous dwellings. Even the cookie-cutter people looked cookie-cutter. You could almost giggle at the thought, especially as the wide woman in a lime green coat exited her lime green door and past the remnants of her lime-green summer hydrangea.

You wondered if you still looked like your parents’ house. Alone. Obtuse. Obnoxious. You couldn’t decide which one was worse. You missed your apartment. While small, it had the original crown molding, and the original brick walls that stayed warm when you lit the fireplace. You hoped you looked like her. She was something to be proud of.

You understood that your parents harbored an unspoken doubt towards your abilities. You knew about it when you left for Parsons, and it had only had time to mature while you were away. You didn’t know whether to feel like a failure to live up to that expectation or to resent them for manifesting it into existence.

You did resent them for leaving you alone for the holidays- their empty-nester personas had grown unto them like a fungus. They chose the cruise over your company.

You felt lost. Not in the physical sense, no. You doubted there were even enough streets in Hawkins for you to get lost on. You felt like a lobotomized housewife, the mashed-potato remnants of your frontal lobe unable to make sense of anything you had learned in undergrad now that it belonged to the real world. The world turned from your oyster to your operating room, your hands discarding the shell for a bone drill and a leucotome.

The house was the same as you left it. Large. Your mother spared no expense in anything- especially not the house they rarely resided in. The chill inside was colder than the one outside. White marble spanned from baseboard to baseboard, up the stairs and through the expanse of the second floor. The conversation pit was dastardly. You didn’t think an actual conversation had taken place there in your entire life. Your footsteps echoed against the walls. No food in the fridge. Open Architectural Digest on the coffee table- strategically placed- making its home next to the Tabarka Studio catalog.

You resented this place.

The coffee shop was quaint. Nestled between the local secondhand bookstore and some vintage consignment shop, buried in the deepest nest of Hawkins’ own charming aura. It also seemed like the only place that was warm in the historic downtown shopping district. The flocking on the windows seemed out of place- considering the foot of snow you were predicted to receive overnight seemed to be falling in sheets outside of the store.

You ordered your coffee poignantly, your own voice scaring you. You realized then that you hadn’t spoken in days- you had no reason to, given that you were alone anyways. You felt the way the hot liquid burned your hand through the cup, trying to draw that heat towards the rest of your body- until it was, in fact, covering your sweater and the floor beneath you.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, louder than you could have accurately gauged for such a short time.

“O-oh my God- shit- oh my God. I’m so sorry.” The boy in front of you fumbled, setting his own coffee down and reaching deft hands towards you.

“Oh my God- no. You’re totally okay!” You reassured, pulling your top layer off, quickly. The coffee hadn’t even sunk down to your base layer.

“Oh- God, no you’re covered. Did I burn you?” He asked, almost too quickly, reaching out to grab your shoulders to look you over before pulling his own sweater off to hand to you.

“Here, take this. Please.” He pleaded.

“No, Steve, it’s fine.” You said back, now giggling at his frantic nature- as if he had stabbed you rather than spilled your coffee.

He looked up, confused as to how you knew his name. His brow was furrowed. He looked older, and you were comforted in the fact that it wasn’t just you.

“Oh my God, hi!” He said, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile.

If you were a New York loft, Steve was a cathedral. The light shone through stained glass windows and graced his skin in a sparkling smattering of freckles and moles. He housed flying buttresses in the way he enunciated and commanded a room like a mass. The gargoyles were new, though. He seemed more guarded than the Steve Harrington that you knew from Key Club. He seemed sadder, too. Adult sad.

“How have you been?” You asked, cringing at your own use of the formality.

“Good,” He said through a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Now will you please take my sweater?” He asked again, through a nervous chuckle.

“I’m really fine, Steve.” You said, reaching out to take it anyways.

“Do it to make me feel better, at least.” He said, watching you slide it over your shirt.

“Do you feel better now?” You asked him, pointedly raising a brow in his direction.

“Not until I get you another coffee.” He said through a smile.

Steve wouldn’t take no for an answer, buying the second warm cup as an apology that you didn’t pry for. The first one was enough. You sat across from him at the old oak table. It left a waxy residue against your hands- probably from the industrial cleaner they used on them at the end of the day.

“So… it’s been what, like five years now?” He asked, leaning on his elbows in front of you.

“Six,” You corrected, “I uh.. I just graduated.”

The guilty feeling crept on you again. Like you should be contributing. Like you were behind and frantically needed to catch up. Adult sad.

“Oh! That’s right! Parsons, right?” He asked. You didn’t know how he remembered that.

“Yeah. In New York.” You said, soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

“So… Are you back in Hawkins for the holidays?” He inquired, index finger nail scratching idly against an impurity amongst the many in the table.

“No. I’m here to stay.” You replied through an involuntary sight- that horrible guilty feeling creeping back up in your throat like hot vomit.

“It’s admirable.” He said. Six years ago, that statement would have dripped in sarcasm and unimpressed venom. Today it sounded genuine.

“What is?”

“Coming home.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” You scoffed back at him, your own disgust with yourself mirroring the exact nature of your parents- the same ones that left you in this predicament.

“What is?” He asked, mirroring your own confusion at the question.

“What is King Steve up to? I’m sure something just as big and extravagant? Even bigger than New York?”

“I never left, actually.”

“Then what are you doing, Steve?”

“I’m, uh, down at the Family Video. Renting movies.” He reached a hand back to scratch the back of his neck, tufts of soft curls at the nape twirling through his fingers.

That was the last thing you expected from Steve Harrington six years ago. You would have thought Notre Dame. His parents had the money for it. Even Ball State on a baseball scholarship. What had happened in between? You felt guilty for projecting these thoughts on him. You hated when people did that to you. It was unfair.

“Are you happy?” You asked, breaking the several seconds of silence between you.

“What?” He questioned again.

“Do you like doing it? Family Video?”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” You couldn’t tell if it was a lie or not. The adult lie. You accepted it as a truth for now.

“Then I guess it’s admirable, too.”

Steve’s sweater was still warm from the dryer. You used it as a rationalization. You needed to return the sweater. It was disgustingly cold outside. What if it was his only sweater?

Of course it’s not, you idiot. You live in Indiana.

But what if it’s a family heirloom? What if it belonged to his dead grandpa or something?

You shook the thoughts from your head- conversation with yourself feeling too much like cabin fever for you to carry on with. Steve didn’t live very far from your house. His parents’ plantation plain was the epitome of the upper-middle class suburban sprawl that had taken place just ten years prior. Red door, circular drive, pool that could only be used realistically two months out of the year. It was the terror of suburbia. It struck your parents like a plague. It was something you tolerated.

As you walked up the two steps to the porch, you debated leaving. You debated turning around and running- but the risk of him seeing you as you took off down the drive was far more terrifying. You realized then that you were in too deep. The doorbell seemed obnoxious. You opted to knock instead.

“Oh, hey!” Steve greeted, almost too quickly. The door swinging open enthusiastically just seconds after you knocked.

“Hey! I, uh, brought your sweater.” It was uneventful. Unremarkable. It made you want to curl into yourself so hard that you turned into a black hole and imploded.

“Oh! Thanks! I almost forgot about it.” He hadn’t. He’d hoped for this moment. Right here.

A few painful seconds registered between you, your brain couldn’t make sense of the alphabet soup floating around between bits of pink matter and vast emptiness. Your brain screamed to flee.

“Uh, okay, so.. I’m gonna go home now? I’ll see you around?” You asked him, curling your arms in on yourself.

“Wait! I-I have to run some errands? Maybe you’re not too busy to come with?” He asked, stepping out of the threshold of his front door with the same urgency as he had opened it.

“Maybe I’m not.”

In the coming weeks, Steve filled in all of your empty space. Most waking seconds, stolen VHS tapes, strolls through the snow and prompt warm coffees, window shopping through the historic district. Even the mundane things like paying your bills or getting bare necessity groceries to get you through the week. Everything was fun with Steve.

The ebb of the adult sadness no longer had a sting, and slowly, you didn’t feel it at all. Steve didn’t pry about where or what you had planned next. Steve didn’t hound you about your degree or cashing in on your investments. Steve liked you as you existed in that moment. You weren’t a fixer-upper, and you didn’t just have potential. He wasn’t stressful, and liking his company was effortless.

He pushed the cart through the grocery store for you, as you eyed your grocery list- then the contents of the cart- then the grocery list again, making sure you hadn’t missed anything so far.

“So what are you making for dinner?” Steve asked, pulling your attention away from your grocery list.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to do that for you, Steve?” You asked back, knowing damn well he didn't.

“Nope. Not since Nancy Wheeler.” He said, a joking tone still in his voice as he pushed himself around on the cart with one foot.

“Seriously?” You asked him, lowering your list in surprise. If Steve six years ago heard that, he would have exploded into a fine pink mist.

“Seriously what?” He stopped himself on the cart, turning backwards to look at you.

“You haven’t dated anyone since Nancy?”

“Not seriously.” He shrugged, brushing it off like it was nothing.

“What constitutes seriously?” You asked, folding your arms. You weren’t budging, and he knew that.

“More than two dates.” He said, mirroring your own folded arms in an unspoken joke.

“Jeez Steve, ever the player.” You waved your hand, grabbing the cart from next to him and continuing to walk through the aisles.

“I can’t help it that I’m this handsome.” He chuckles, smoothing back his hair and pulling the cart back from you.

“It also might have helped if you stuck around longer than the second date.” You rolled your eyes, sinking back down into your grocery list.

“For your information, it was Nancy who kicked my heart in the ass.” He explained, handing you the jar of honey from the shelf that you were inevitably going to ask for.

“Huh.” You said, not elaborating. Instead keeping your eyes fixated on the shopping list.

“What?” He asked quizzically, still holding out the honey.

“I always assumed you dumped her.” You took the honey from his hand, finally meeting his eye.

“No. I didn’t. Trust me, I tried. She was already in love with someone else” He sighed, leaning his elbows back down against the cart handle. He remembered when he tried to get Nancy back, when he thought that Johnathan had been pulling her into something shady. Before all hell broke loose in Hawkins. He missed the simplicity of simply being an asshole. Now everything was all confusing and he needed to justify every action.

“I’m sure you’ll find your person, Steve.” You reassured, placing a warm hand against his shoulder blade. You felt it shift beneath your hands as he turned towards you.

“I already have my person.” He said to you. He felt hot. He wondered if you noticed the slight tremor in his hands. You didn’t.

“I’m not talking about Robin, dude. Platonic soulmate or not.” You laughed, rolling your eyes and continuing to walk. You knew him and Robin were a special pair, even if they both happened to play for the same team. Eat from the same side of the buffet, if you will. They were twin flames and there was nothing you could do other than accept it- even if you had wanted to change it.

“I’m not talking about her.” He said, stopping in the middle of the aisle. You were already a few steps ahead of him. You looked back at him over your shoulder,

“Dustin doesn’t count either.”

Steve looked up at the main corridor of your house, at the twelve-foot, flocked, artificial tree. It was covered in gold tinsel, only white ornaments, picks, and ribbon adorning its sad, stark branches. Made even more bleak by the excess of white lights strung around it. Your mother hadn’t done this herself- of course she hadn’t, instead hiring a decorator out of Indianapolis to deck your equally depressing halls with the hottest color of the season. White. It made your eyes burn thinking about it.

“It’s uh…” Steve started, trying to find something to describe it without sounding horrible.

“Devout of all life?” You finished for him.

“I was gonna say like mine, but I guess that’s synonymous.” He chuckled.

“What’s with our mothers and hating color?” You asked him, dragging the groceries in behind you.

“Color must equate to poverty.” He attempted to reason, dragging in the other half of your groceries.

“And apparently so does being home for Christmas.” You sighed, heaving them up onto the white marble countertops.

“Hey… Mine haven’t been home for a seven-year streak now.” He shrugged, in an attempt to make you feel better. You wondered how lonely it must have felt, going through that as a kid.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You said, turning around to snake your arms around his waist quickly. He was warm. Ridiculously warm. You could have stayed there forever, and he wouldn’t have minded.

“It’s okay. We can be alone together, right?” He said, his hands trailing up and down, flat-palmed against the valley of your back.

You sat in silence for a while, taking him in. He smelled good. He had a wonderful boy smell, like a big comfy chair and bourbon in your coffee. Like a hearth with a new fire. You hummed contently as you felt him twirl the ends of a strand of your hair between his fingers, rocking you slowly back and forth.

“When I was a kid they had these globe lights that were all different colors. Not just the red and green ones. Like every color. I thought they were the coolest.” You piped up, shattering the silence between you like a bat against a window. He pulled away from you, hands still gripping your shoulders.

“They sound really nice.” He smiled, before letting his hands fall to the paper grocery bags behind you.

“What happened to them? Our parents, I mean.” You asked, back turned to him as you began filling the fridge.

“They got old. They got weird and sad. You stop caring when you do that.” He opened the pantry, slotting cereal and oatmeal boxes neatly inside.

“I think we got old, too. And weird and sad.”

“We did, didn’t we?”

There was a lull in conversation, a beat filled only by the crinkle of cellophane wrapping and fridge doors opening as you each had separate qualms with your own mortality. It was weird, and it was sad. Eighteen felt so far beyond the realms of your comprehension now. People told you that you looked like a different person. You didn’t feel the same. Maybe all of that weirdness and all of that sadness was beginning to register on your face. Had your mother felt like this at your age?

“Do you remember that prom party senior year?” Steve asked.

“The one where Ricky threw up in your pool?” You turned to him, letting the fridge close behind you.

“Yeah. The one where I spent a good two hour skimming puke off the top of said pool.” He met you in the kitchen, leaning back against the island, hands gripping the counter behind him

“When did that stop being fun?” You leaned back against your side of the counter, arms folding in front of your chest.

“The second hangovers took me three days to fully recover from.” He chuckled, though the truth rang apparent in the space between you.

“I think we’re the ones that stopped being fun.” You sat up from the counter, gesturing to the space between you. Steve sat up as well, taking the step towards you.

He was close. Close enough that you felt the heat radiate from him like a hearth. Close enough to kiss.

“I’m still fun.” He said, barely above a whisper.

There was nothing. And then there was Steve. He stood before you in all of his plantain plain, gothic cathedral glory. He was a holy stained glass relic in the way he kissed, soft like candlelight behind selenium. His lips told stories like parables, harboring enough heartbreak and sacrifice for a lifetime.

He was the suburban sprawl in the way he held you close, gripping your hips fervently- like you were going to slip away. You realized then that you saw the next ten years of your life in front of you, even if it was cookie-cutter. You wanted it as long as it was with him. It was all the same with him, just as grand as whatever bullshit Architectural Digest your mom left on the coffee table.

“That you are, Steve Harrington.”

Your state of lovesick bliss concaved on your personage like a house fire. Your anger wasn’t enough to warm you in the snow in front of the Harrington house, arms like steel beams enclosing Nancy Wheeler in a frame. Ash fell in your line of sight in slow motion, his hands planing her back like molding. You felt your foundation crack. You felt your framework crumble. What was previously steady was uprooted with a vigor that could bring you to your knees.

It made sense to you. Steve was still in love with Nancy.

You felt stupid. Nancy and her skin like venetian plaster, alabaster and glowing against the light refracted from the snow. Rosy cheeks like unsealed saltillo and soft edges like archways. She matched his tracery. She smoothed out his edges in the ways that you never could.

His eye met yours as he looked up from Nancy’s shoulder, letting his hands fall from her body to wave at you. You wanted to run, but couldn’t justify a reason for it. You would have to grit your teeth and bear it until you could weasel up an excuse.

“Hey!” Steve ran through his yard, leaving heavy footprints in the snow behind him. All you could see was Nancy Wheeler, standing soft on the porch in front of him. The light from his door cast a glow like a halo around her head.

“Hi.” You said, barely above a whisper.

“It’s freezing out here, let’s go inside.” He said, reaching out to run his hands up and down your shoulders. You couldn’t bear the idea of him touching you with the same hands that held Nancy just moments before.

“Hey, I’m actually pretty busy. I’ll see you later.” You saw your first chance to leave and took it, already taking a few steps back to walk away. His hands receded, and his brow knit together in confusion.

“O-oh. Okay? I’ll swing by after work then?” He looked taken aback. You didn’t know if you had the heart in you to care, though, his hurt expression was enough to make your voice crack.

“No, I actually have some errands to run.”

You didn’t wait to hear his response, snow crunching rapidly underfoot- turning into the icy slosh you felt pouring from your chest and out of your eyes. You wouldn’t let yourself cry over Steve Harrington. You never even had him in the first place. You would, however, allow yourself to cry over your own stupidity. Something as trivial as falling in love was beneath you- especially falling in love with him.

The ash settled on the eve of your own discontent like snow, falling around you in sheets that buried you faster than you could claw your way out. So you let it swallow you, like the bedding you buried yourself in. You tried to live, sure, tried to feel normal. But it was so mechanical now. Coffee out of the pot, boiled egg with salt, shower in silence, sit in the conversation pit and stare at the bleak white tree.

Nothing was fun anymore. No colored bulbs, bleak white days.

You no longer frequented the coffee shop- well, you don’t know if it had become quite a habit yet considering it had only been a few days, but there are a significant amount of unpleasant things you’d rather have done instead of risking running into Steve. This included consuming an entire denim jacket. You drowned out the phone. You tuned out the brisk knocks on the door. Instead, opting for leisurewear for a third day in a row and shitty daytime television.

This was the nightmare you swore you would never live. You were turning into your mother. Maybe it was fate; a parable etched into a stained glass cathedral.

You shook the thoughts from your head, you would not think of him. You would not stoop to this level of pathetic- even if he had ruined literal holy ground for you. And you would not turn into your mother.

As quickly as you had moved in days, you threw the blanket from your body and was greeted with immediate cold, though the house was always cold. You never paid it any mind until the only warmth you had ever known was suddenly absent. You padded quickly up the stairs, feet sticking to the underfoot and unsticking with a soft noise. You wouldn’t have noticed it before, but the house was so quiet now. Quieter than usual.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, mimicking your mothers hands as you pull back on the nonexistent wrinkles on your face. The bags under your eyes were designer. You tried to convince yourself of this as you changed out of your day’s old pajama set and into real adult clothes. You knew you wouldn’t brave the world today, especially not in this cold, but you could at least pretend like you were. With some persuasion and a little elbow grease, you looked like your heart hadn’t gotten kicked in this ass a few days prior.

Your seven-day silence was shattered, then the pebble bouncing off your window shattered your cold streak like glass.

Steve stood in the snow on your frozen lawn, light from your bedroom window casting a barely-there glow against the snow.

“Steve? What are you doing here?” You asked, squinting to attempt to see his figure in the dark.

“I’ve been coming. You never answer.” He yelled upwards towards your terrace, arms thrown out wide in defense.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He asked sarcastically, rummaging around in the snow for something you couldn’t see “All of this white is gonna make you depressed. You need some color!”

You already were depressed, you had been depressed. Steve must have missed the memo.

“Why?” You asked, flinching at the sound of your own snarkiness.

“Because you’re already depressed- look, just come down here!” He pleaded, sounding desperate. It broke you despite your anger towards him.

You rolled your eyes, shutting the french doors behind you on the terrace. You shucked on the closest sweater and hurried down the stairs, meeting Steve on the patio. Steve rushed to meet you at the top of the stairs, hands encasing your shoulders in a warm grasp.

“Look, I don’t know why you dropped off the face of the earth, but at least let me make it better?” He asked, voice tender as he reached around you to smooth the hair on the back of your head.

“I’m fine, Steve.” You insisted, yet he recognized that same sadness that registered in your eyes.

“No you’re not. You came by the other day and then flipped and left. What happened?” He asked, eyes softening as he looked you over.

“Nothing, Steve.” You persisted

“Nancy said tha-” He started, going white once he realized, “It was Nancy, wasn’t it?”

“You’re still in love with her.” You said, ashamed of your own assumption. Your voice registered as barely above a whisper.

“Sweetheart, no. Nancy and I are not. She is utterly and irrevocably in love with Johnathan.” He cupped your face in his hand, encapsulating your jaw and running his thumb against your wind-burnt cheek.

“But, in the store-” You started, but Steve stopped you.

“I was talking about you, stupid. You’re my person.” He laughed, moving his hands to grip your waist. He locked you into a tight kiss, all teeth as he smiled against your lips.

“You didn’t have to call me stupid, y’know.” You mumbled against him, drawing a chuckle from his lips.

“Listen, I am so stupidly in love with you. Like I'm so in love with you.” He said, cupping your face in his hands.

“Steve.” You groaned, burying your face in your own hands now.

“Listen- just, like, I’m not great with words but, ugh. Just watch this.” He let go of you, suddenly, stumbling his way down the stairs. You couldn’t help but to laugh at his own boyish excitement.

Suddenly, with a soft hum, your patio was encased in a shroud of prismatic color. You laughed, the colorful bulbs wrapped around your porch refracting light across Steve’s face, a nervous smile gracing his lips.

“I figured we don’t have to do this alone together thing forever,” He started, “I’d much rather do this together together thing with you.” He took you in his arms again, placing a soft peck to your mouth.

“I’d like that.” You laughed, your head burying deep into his shoulder.

“And we can have fun colored lights every year.” He said to you, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“Is that a guarantee?” You asked him

“It’s a promise.”

“When we have our own home, Steve.” You reminded him, knowing that your mother would scoff if she saw the lights.

“Anywhere with you is my home.”

#steve harrington #father steve #steve stranger things #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #flea writes

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imagine-silk · 1 year ago

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kissing it better + bandaging/stitching up an injury for platonic yandere peter b? (itsv or atsv version.)

》 I had to redo this after writing a whole thing so another thing will come out after this and you'll see the resemblance.

He didn’t like the first time you tried to leave and the second time you lost the privilege to walk around the apartment while he was gone. The fucking 'privilege'. Typically he wasn’t gone long but he was gone long enough for nature to call. There wasn’t a bathroom attached to the bedroom and it drove you insane.

Unlike the front door the restraint on your leg was simple, an ankle restraint that was less than fancy, just something from some sporting goods store no doubt. So you wrapped it around the bedpost and pulled until it snapped. Just like that you made it out and into the bathroom before looking for a place to leave.

There seemed to be no way out. All the possible exits were baby proofed with Peter’s nerd shit and you already knew you couldn’t break down a door. You made a sandwich in the meantime to think for ways to leave and ways to make excuses if he got back. Then you crunched on lettuce next to the window.

Ten seconds later you threw a chair through it. The sound of the shatter broke your brain. The way out was right there.

You didn’t waste a second. You grabbed the sides with no reservations. Being careful would hurt so much more so you scrambled out, cutting your hands, cutting your feet, and cutting everywhere else. As you tumbled down there was another sound of something landing next to you. Spiderman was looking down at you for two seconds before he took you. You thought he was going to swing away or something of the like but he jumped inside and all but dumped you on the table.

It was all so fast. There was a medkit next to you in an instant and the second you tried to get up he pushed you back down and opened the box. You started to tell him he needed to help you leave but he kept shushing you until he yelled, “Shut up! Fuck!” You stopped moving completely and he took the chance to set up things on the table, tweezers, needle, thread. “We will talk about this later.”

All of it was so familiar, but the last time he told you that you were ten. “You are not talking to a child.” The thought of Peter being Spiderman left the building and stood on the side of the street.

“You are bleeding on my table, bullshit you’re an adult.” He snapped, wiping flecks of glass off you before taking out the shards.

You were so mad you weren’t wincing at his treatment, pulling out glass with pointed metal through torn flesh. “Are you serious right now?”

“Look at yourself. You really think this is going to make me think I should let you out?” He was so aware and you didn’t know if that was good or bad but you hated it.

“I had to jump out a window to leave this fucking apartment all because I wanted to go out of state and you decided to kidnap me.”

“What was wrong with Fordham, huh? Are you too good for Manhattan?”

“You’re not listening to me. Ah-” He lifted your leg without warning, clearly out of spite, and pulled the glass out there. “You’re so petty.”

“If I was, I would tell you to do all of this by yourself.” You growled back at him and dropped your head back on the table. All you could do in that moment was listen and feel the anger fuming off of him like he was the person wronged. It was obvious he took no joy in it but he didn’t feel bad about it. “Jump in the shower, we need to clean you up.”

“We? You better be speaking French because that sentence doesn’t check out in English.”

“It became ‘we’ when you jumped out a window so don’t give me any of that crap.”

“You are not getting in the shower with me.”

“You’re right, I’m not. I’m staying on the side. So shut up and go.”

It hit you then and embedded itself in your brain. You said it a lot but it didn’t truly set in until that moment; He didn’t see it as wrong because you were a ‘child’. Why would you let a kid covered in mud back in the house without wiping them down. You wouldn't. “I don’t want to get naked in front of you.”

He gave you a look that said ‘that’s stupid’. “Then keep your underwear on and start sitting before you paint my floors red.”

Peter was being petty and you both knew it, but both of you had something to prove. So he didn’t help you to the bathroom and you limped over without asking as fast as you could to say you were fine and to save you prolonged pain. You started the water and sat under the spray. If you were in a better state you would have pulled yourself in but your everything couldn’t take that.

He came in not too long after that with some stuff and he changed into normal clothes. There wasn’t one of those sprays you could take off and aim so he had a tupperware to fill and pour. “Spread your legs.”

“What?”

He didn’t answer, just pushed your head down to drench your head and flicked through all of your hair. It was uncomfortable but you saw it; there was glass in your hair. With no warning he pulled you up and you blew water out of your face while he poured water on your hands. You were still too proud to look at anything but the wall but you could still feel it, he was pissed. Then he stopped and your curiosity got the better of you. You gave in and looked to see him looking at you but not in the eyes, above them. He squeezed your eyebrow and washed his hand while you groaned and cursed.

It changed after that, you felt his anger starting to wane, fizzle into nothing while he dumped alcohol on your arms. He froze when he got to your knees. “There’s so much left to do.” He said. He was right, your legs were cut up all over. It wasn’t what he said but how he said it. It was almost a breath that could’ve just not happened. “There’s… so much left.”

“Peter?” You thought he was tired and he was going to tell you to finish by yourself. That he was going to bed and say ‘I just can’t with you’.

But he was haunted. “You were in pajamas. You weren’t even wearing shoes. And you hit your head. And you got it on your back.” He was just staring at your legs. Very bloody legs that streamed red down the white tub. “You were just going to walk on the street like this. You were going to bleed out cold in an alley. Someone was going to jump you. I barely got here. If I wasn’t here you would be gone.” He was never an emotionally detached man by any means but he had been so large and in charge it was a shock to see him cry in that moment, when he had been so authoritarian.

“I’m not going to die if I go outside.” Your accusation had weight behind it. He had been like that five months ago and only came out of it because you busted down his door. It was too close to home and you wanted to stop it before it happened, before he could shut off of the world. There was no telling of what would happen if he did.

“Rhino could’ve been running through the streets. Prowler could’ve been on the loose. Some car could’ve hit you.”

“None of that is going to happen.”

“You don’t know that.” He held your knee and thumbed over it like it would break. It did hurt but you decided against showing that. “And I don’t want you to be another person who tells me that.”

Showering after that was quiet and quick. Wrapped, clothed, in bed. Peter had given you painkillers that put you to sleep. And Peter wasn't there, he was losing his mind in the living room walling off the window. After everything he’s done to lock up the place it was safe to say he was never getting his safety deposit back, absolutely not. He’d have to get some wood to keep it closed until he could replace the window but he’d had to settle for cardboard. The blood on the floor was dealt with, kit put away, suit in the sink. He didn’t want to think about any of it. But thought always found him.

Just a peek.

He told himself he wasn’t going to look at you until tomorrow to not see what happened up close but that didn’t happen. One peek turned to two turned to checking every ten minutes. It wasn’t like he was going to get sleep anyways after the day’s events. One of them scared him. He didn’t know why, you didn’t move from your previous position, or maybe that was the exact problem. He rushed to your side and put two fingers to your neck. The blood was running and he could feel the heart beating slow and steady. “You’re asleep.” You were.

But he sat next to the bed all the same. He cradled your hand and kissed it. He could smell the blood, practically taste it and it relieved him just as much as it disgusted him. If you were awake you would tell him you weren’t a kid and that his boo-boo kisses weren’t welcomed so he stole them, for his sake. When you woke up he was still sitting there, his face down and drooling on the sheets, hands holding something that wasn’t there anymore.

#ask and you shall receive #gender neutral reader #atsv #yandere #peter b. parker #peter parker #platonic #platonic yandere #marvel

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silverjetsystm · 12 days ago

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A song of ascents. It is said the guardian of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps.

Despite the myriad of reasons keeping him from a full and complete (final) rest, the one who guards Midtown's nighttime travelers does.

The Midnight Mission’s black facade stands firmly between two other buildings. In the past few years since the macabre Moon Kni.ght has moved in, these two buildings have hosted real estate and health pills slash juice bar. Several other brightly colored signs never delivered on sparkling promises. Plenty of other embedded options. A dance studio, hotels, banks, dispensary, a fabric shop, eating options for all hours of the day embedded in the blocks of those who have lived here for decades.

Crescent moons emblazoned on bulletproof windows glow bright in mid-morning Manhattan. Sunlight unmarred by dust motes warms the study’s thick leafy plants. Clear slivers cast across mahogany desk and green chairs. Air breathes.

Midday light slices across hieroglyphic stone walls, the stone statue, raising glassy flecks in ancient gray. Adult Khon.shu, dressed in human form and function. White glider-cloak draped across its shoulders retains its own light.

Unless told otherwise, Mission – the entity once known as The House of Shadows – will not open its doors to those who cause harm to the inhabitants. A seeker of information to some, a thief by actions not yet written, does not meet criteria. Mission’s doors remain unlocked unlike shuls of their youth. File cabinets manila folders clinically recount recent cases, tax documents, and projects.

Walls watch the woman go up the stairs, enter its endless corridors. Some doors open easily. Others remain shut.

Certain objects are stored beyond anyone but themselves’ reach.

The proprietor(s)’ room is new; they sleep on their king sized bed like a corpse. Mission’s silent chime sounding in REM. A certain mercy Steven is the one who awakens, heart pounding in their chest. Jake tugs Marc’s white phosphorus rage away, leaving Steven’s bed headed and bleary eyed, sagging into pillow-topped mattress. Hinei Hinei Lo Yanum/Lo Yanum v'Lo Yishan bounces in his ears. Steven presses palms into face. “Give me five minutes. Get Marc together. And stop that.”

Hinei Hinei Lo Yanum/Lo Yanum v'Lo Yishan/Shomer Yisrael.

Face washed, teeth brushed, Mr. Kni.ght’s whites cover them. Mask in Steven’s hand, he calmly and collectedly steps into the back. Marc lunges into the front, throat growling, body tensing, heart rate escalating. Icy “Rrrr” reverberates his throat.

Mask pulled on and tucked just right, white leather oxfords stalk the corridors of the Mission in silence. Dress shirt sleeves are rolled to elbows, white leather gloves cover his hands. She can’t hide from him. He’s a heat-seeking missile to one.

Rustling papers would clue him in if he lacked the pull. Mr. Kni.ght leans against the door frame, arms crossed. Teal-silver eyes glare. “My daytime visitors know not to go past the living area. Who are you. Why did you come here.”

Interrogation questions are not phrased like questions.

#kinomorebi #feat. freya #v: long live mk | 616 #mr k | glib guy in white #//fuck it system wide effort

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franklycharmed · 3 months ago

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Stored in a crisp manila folder labeled FMW in a filing cabinet in Richard's study.

THE CITY OF NEW YORK | CERTIFICATION OF BIRTH

This is a certification of name and birth facts on file in the Office of Vital Records, Department of Health and Hygiene, City of New York.

CERTIFICATE NUMBER: 819084991

DATE OF BIRTH: MAY 6, 1975

DATE FILED/ISSUED: MAY 7, 1975

FACILITY NAME: MOUNT SINAI HOSPITAL

BOROUGH: MANHATTAN

NAME: █████ ████████

SEX: FEMALE

MOTHER'S MAIDEN NAME: ████████

FATHER'S NAME: █████ ████████

PEDIATRIC HEALTH RECORD (PAGE 1)

Child's Name: █████ ████████ (addendum 8/4/85) Francesca Mabel Westmacott

Immunization Schedule [*received as recommended]: RSV-mAb*, HepB*, RV1*, DTaP: <7 yrs*, PCV15*, IPV: <18 yrs*, MMR*, HepB*, VAR*

Notes:

12 MONTH WELL VISIT: Patient briefly contracted HFMD at child care facility, duration was as expected. Patient continues to attend child care center and has done so since age 6 weeks. Has experienced no other major illness since 9 month well visit.

Patient received regular servings of calcium-rich and iron-rich foods, fruits and vegetables. All liquids (milk and water only) are delivered via sippy cup. Mother has elected to forgo breast feeding. Patient's teeth are brushed daily.

Patient sleeps at night w/o waking and naps as encouraged. Mother reports patient excels at self-soothing. Patient sleeps in cot in separate room.

Patient successfully executed milestones signaling independence (holding cup, feeding self, walking alone) but struggled with vocalization (could not combine syllables for "mama"). Strong developmental comprehension (responded appropriately to "no"). Mixed selective response to social cues (peek-a-boo, waving goodbye).

No concerns cited by patient's mother.

STUDENT RECORD | MEADOWVIEW ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

STUDENT: █████ ████████

ACADEMIC YEAR: Kindergarten

TERM: Fall

TEACHER: E. Horner

GRADING [ E - Exceeds Standards | M - Meets Standards | A - Approaching Standards | N - Needs Support]

BEHAVIORS

Follows oral directions [E] Works independently [E] Works cooperatively [A] Maintains attention to teacher-directed lessons [E] Makes effective use of time [M] Participates in class [N] Completes classwork [E] Completes homework [M] Follows school rules [E] Respects feelings of others [E] Demonstrates self-control [E]

COMMENTS

█████ is quiet during silent activities and is especially attentive when teachers or other classroom adults are speaking. As we say in class, "a friend in need is a friend indeed", and █████ is always eager to lend a helping hand to her peers. A point of growth for █████ is using her voice to ask for help. When she struggles to understand a new concept she is reluctant to ask for assistance. █████ has demonstrated some selective mutism when in conversation with adults and is scheduled for an early assessment with the school psychologist (see attached notes) however █████ 's mother was not concerned when I raised this during our fall parent-teacher conference. Afterschool program supervisors having glowing reports for █████ , sharing that she is neat during snack time and uses her program time well to complete any out-of-school assignments. █████ is always excited by the opportunity for free and imaginative play, but ultimately becomes overwhelmed. █████ shows some especially anxious behavior when she thinks she may have broken a classroom or school rule, which is an unusual occurrence. On the whole, █████ is a pleasure to having class and is a strong contributor to the culture of respect we try and cultivate in Class D!

#about #went to do a timeline #did this instead #probably more where this came from

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beardedmrbean · 2 months ago

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It’s the Third World meets Bangkok.

In "Squad" member Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s district in New York City, those who are described as scantily dressed migrant prostitutes line blocks of a long commercial strip during all hours of the day and night, brazenly soliciting sex to passersby while their pimps strike fear into local business owners, one of whom told Fox News Digital he’s been threatened for speaking out and is on the verge of closing his store.

The trash-filled streets of Roosevelt Avenue in Queens, which encompasses the migrant-heavy communities of Corona, Jackson Heights and Elmhurst, has become a veritable hotbed for one of the world’s oldest professions, and residents say that most elected officials and police are turning a blind eye to the neighborhood nightmare, which looks more like the famed brothel-filled red-light district streets of Bangkok than one of America’s biggest cities.

Illegal vendors also overrun the sidewalks, plying their hustle in what residents have likened to "Third World" conditions, cooking hot food out in the open devoid of any health certifications or inspections as hungry birds swoop down in search of leftovers and leaving their droppings along the way.

AOC DISTRICT NEIGHBORHOOD LABELED 'THIRD WORLD' AS MIGRANTS CLOG STREETS AND PROSTITUTES OVERRUN EVERY BLOCK

Known to locals as the "Avenue of the Sweethearts," this epicenter of vice is not some desolate area on the outskirts of a city but rather the heart of the borough of Queens underneath the area’s main subway track that serves as a vital cog connecting Manhattan and its local schools to families, many of whom stream down the subway steps and are then inescapably met by armies of prowling solicitors.

Fox News Digital even recorded a man pushing his young son in a stroller past a group of five sex workers.

Residents say that students pass prostitutes every day on their way to school or on their way to local taekwondo centers situated along the busy strip and that the situation has become the norm for their youthful eyes with the alleged sex workers, mostly composed of Asian and Hispanic women, filling the sidewalks.

On Sept. 18, the NYPD raided a brothel just off Roosevelt Avenue and arrested three people. The following evening, Fox News Digital was conducting an interview in front of the raided premises when an alleged sex worker and her reported john casually walked out of the same building.

On one block along Roosevelt Avenue, Fox News Digital cameras recorded a line of no less than 19 alleged sex workers on the sidewalk. Around the corner, there were at least seven more, and a woman on the next block was witnessed soliciting sex for $60.

Nearby, vendors sell everything from used clothes to pots and pans or tools. More recently, female vendors have begun cutting hair and painting nails under canopies on the cluttered sidewalks, with all of these illegal vendors operating feet from legitimate brick-and-mortar stores whose owners rage they are being undercut in prices while also having to pay taxes, unlike the illegal vendors.

Shoplifting and pick-pocketing is also widespread, business owners say, and there’s a sense here that lawlessness is breeding more lawlessness.

On Sept. 19, the day after the raid, Fox News Digital witnessed a man being arrested for allegedly groping a 17-year-old girl as she walked down the subway steps.

In police handcuffs, he denied the accusations to onlookers. The girl, who was being comforted by adults, looked visibly shaken.

Ramses Frías, a local resident turned activist, is furious with the deterioration of his neighborhood and says "it feels like Bangkok with women outside locations and pulling men off the street."

"This area has been run rampant with prostitution," he told Fox News Digital outside the raided brothel. "It's just been out of control and the lawlessness continues to happen."

"This doesn’t feel like my home. I've been here my whole life, and this feels like I'm a tourist in a Third World country. This is not how this is supposed to look, this is not how it's supposed to feel," he insisted. "This is a neighborhood and a community full of hardworking individuals, immigrants and second-generation Americans that worked really hard to be here and are facing all this evil and all these bad things. ... And it's just causing more issues daily and our quality of life just continues to drop."

Seconds later, an alleged sex worker and her client emerged from the brothel.

A neighboring business owner then ushered Fox News Digital into his store, warning that "pimps" were watching via CCTV. The store owner did not want to be named but said he had reported the cathouse to police and had been threatened by those involved with the brothel.

"I’m so scared, this is my business," he said, adding that his business is suffering because customers are avoiding the area and will likely have to close because of it.

Curtis Sliwa, the founder of the Guardian Angels and a Republican candidate for mayor, says prostitution has exploded in the neighborhood after the pimps and sex workers were driven out of the nearby area of Flushing, well known for its Asian population.

"It was never like this. It was a family area with a lot of retail," Sliwa told Fox News Digital of Roosevelt Avenue. "The Chinese community pushed it out [of Flushing] and Asian cops were getting busted because they were on the take, so they just decided, the madams, bring the girls over here … and its open prostitution, 24/7. [It's] lawless. Anarchy. You get to do what you want when you want."

Two NYPD officers were busted in 2006 on bribery charges relating to the protection of a brothel in Flushing, and there are similar cases stretching back further.

Sliwa says the police and New York City Mayor Eric Adams are not doing enough to clamp down on the racket. In January, the NYPD raided six establishments allegedly engaged in prostitution, which were issued closing orders. The raid was well publicized, with Adams and local Democrat City Council member Francisco Moya present. However, it appears to have done little to curb the problem.

Sliwa slammed it as a "show raid" and said there were no arrests.

"They didn't arrest the johns, prostitutes, madams; they never went after the landlords, and they were back in business the next day," said Sliwa, who joined Fox News Digital and Frías on a walking tour of the area.

The Queens District Attorney's Office confirmed that no arrests were made, saying it was strictly carried out to serve court closure orders of nuisance abatement over which the NYPD has jurisdiction.

"This would never be tolerated in Manhattan. They tolerate it because it's … a poor and impoverished area in the eyes of many New Yorkers, but that doesn't give you a reason to allow this to exist," Sliwa said. "This is so unfair … and the mayor is allowing a culture of corruption to exist. These police officers are on the take. It's the only way they could operate openly. They'll say, ‘We deny that.’ Well, that's what happened in Flushing and that's why they pushed it over here."

Adams' office did not respond to a request for comment. The NYPD confirmed the three arrests after the Sept. 18 raid but did not respond to a request for further comment.

No police officers have been charged for being involved in prostitution in recent years. In 2018, seven NYPD officers — three sergeants, two detectives and two officers — were indicted in connection with an illegal prostitution and gambling ring in Brooklyn and Queens, which encompassed Roosevelt Avenue.

Separately, NYPD Chief of Patrol John Chell told Fox News that it suspects members of the brutal Tren de Aragua are linked to prostitution in the area, trafficking women into the industry to pay off the debts the gang is owed for smuggling them into the country.

Meanwhile, the Queens District Attorney’s Office says it is working hard to stamp out prostitution and crime in the area, noting the office has "evicted 13 prostitution locations this year being used for illegal activity on or near Roosevelt Avenue." The office says it's in the process of permanently shutting down the raided brothel.

Of Ocasio-Cortez, Frías said the socialist lawmaker has not been seen in the neighborhood since she took part in a rally there in August 2023, where she condemned a city crackdown on illegally operating vendors and called for the city to issue more permits to those vendors.

"She does not visit this area; this is actually an area where she campaigned the hardest and a lot of people went out [to vote] for her, and she doesn't come over here. She has totally neglected us," Frías said, noting that other local elected officials are rarely seen in the area, which is only represented by Democrats.

"So, we're totally neglected, we're here to fend for ourselves and this is what we have to do now. We're going to organize. We're going to have a rally coming up on Sept. 29, and we're going to let our voices be heard and make sure that the city understands that they need to come over here and do their job," he adds.

Ocasio-Cortez’s office did not respond to repeated requests for comment on this story or on a March story in which Fox News Digital brought attention to the neighborhood’s plight, featuring the additional publication of a now-viral video provided by Frías showing an almost endless stream of vendors with piles of clothes stacked along the streets.

Police swept the area days later and Frías – a former Democrat who is running for City Council as a Republican next year – said vendors have simply set up shop there again.

Rep. Grace Meng, whose district also encompasses Roosevelt Avenue, said in a one-line statement, "Quality of life and safety issues need to always be addressed, and I remain in contact with the 110th precinct, Councilman Moya, our local community board and other local elected officials."

Frías also took aim at state Sen. Jessica Ramos, a Democrat who represents the area and is running for mayor. She has previously labeled prostitution on the strip as "survival work" and in 2019 co-sponsored a series of bills that would have decriminalized sex work and vacated the records of people arrested or charged with prostitution or related offenses.

Ramos told Fox News Digital she was happy to see the recent raid take place and pitted blame on the mayor for the unsavory situation, saying Adams' office has been sidetracked by scandals rather than addressing the concerns of the community.

"No one wants to see people selling sex, especially when they’re being coerced by traffickers. It’s unclear what took so long," Ramos said in a statement.

"The underground economy has spiraled out of control," she added, referencing the illegal vendors. "Without work permits from the ‘feds,’ migrants need honest work to provide for themselves. The fact is the migrants are here, and they want to work."

Meanwhile, Moya, who attended the January raid and has rallied alongside so-called "clean streets" advocates like Frías, said that his fellow Democrats are impeding efforts to shut down the brothels and illegal vendors.

"I’ve lived my entire life in this district, and I’ve never seen it this bad," Moya said of the prostitution. "After COVID, the situation has worsened significantly. The influx of migrants plays a part in this issue, as many have no other means of survival. The federal government has turned a blind eye to the situation and there’s only so much the city can do, since we don’t have the authority to grant work permits or legal status to those in need."

Moya said other elected officials have been calling up city agencies demanding that all enforcement stop.

"Some elected officials don’t see this as a problem, suggesting that ‘work is work’ and we should let it be. I believe that if a state representative wants to legalize prostitution, it should be done with strict rules and regulations, in designated areas like the city of Amsterdam – not in our community, especially near schools where children pass by and witness these activities daily," he insisted.

"I’m doing everything in my power to mitigate this issue, as you can see many have been investigated and shutdown – but what I have been doing is being undermined by these leaders who don’t recognize the urgent need for change. Yet, I assure you, I will not stop until significant change is made."

#nunyas news #not much a member of congress can do #other than try and pressure the local government #to do their jobs

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clayberesford-anakinskywalkerfan · 1 year ago

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Awake AU Chapter 1

Roselyn and Clay Meet Again

Late autumn was approaching and it had been a few months since Roselyn Caverly, a young 22 year old girl had been adjusting to her new young adult life and she had been working at a small bakery, called Country Harvest back in her hometown, Manhattan New York City. Roselyn had previously been living in LA for a few years studying at Pepperdine University which was also the same school that her successful chief lawyer mother Rachel attended. Her mother hoped that Roselyn would choose a successful career and follow in her mother’s footsteps. However, Roselyn was more passionate about working in the graphic design field. As much as she loved and appreciated her experience living in California, learning new skill sets and making friends, she missed being at home with her family and close friends she grew up with.

Roselyn had just finished a long day at work. Some days were very overwhelming, especially when it was really busy with customers in the afternoons and she struggled with anxiety which also made some of her days a bit difficult. However, she was always able to push through and keep going, even if she felt like giving up some days. After work, she decided to walk to Starbucks on her way home as she had been planning on spending at least an hour there. She loved to go there to write, have a snack and just decompress from the day before heading home to make supper.

Once she arrived inside the cafe, she noticed that it was really busy as it was a popular time for most people to be finished working by now. As she was standing in line waiting to order, she scanned the entire front of the store seeing if there were any tables available for her to sit. While she was searching for a spot, she noticed a handsome young man who looked very familiar sitting at a table by himself near the window. His curly dirty blond hair was neatly combed and he was very well dressed in the latest male fashions. She was very surprised to realize that it was her childhood friend Clayton Beresford.

The two of them had grown up together as children and attended the same private high school. They had always been best friends and never felt alone during those times because they always did their best to support and be there for each other and also have some fun times too.It was a bit sad that they lost touch since Roselyn had been away for a few years and Clay had also been busy focusing on his future, following his parent’s footsteps as well. She was actually really happy to see him there, because she remembered how pretty much inseparable they were back in the day.

After she had purchased a pumpkin spice latte and a brownie, she decided to go join him for a bit and say hello. Roselyn noticed he was slowly drinking tea and casually writing in his journal.

“Hi Clay. How are you doing?” she asked sweetly with a warm smile.

Clay looked up at her with his heavy eyelids and smiled as he was surprised and also happy to see her there. There was definitely a change to his physical appearance since the last time she had seen him. Roselyn could tell that he didn’t look too well though considering he looked very pale, fatigued, and underweight. Also his light blue eyes were hidden by the dark circles around his eyelids. She had always been concerned about him because she knew that he had always been suffering with a congenital heart condition.

“Hi Roselyn. I’m alright thanks. It’s good to see you again. It’s been a very long time,” Clay said weakly, but with a polite smile, inviting her to sit down with him for a bit.

Even though Clay looked frail, he was still a very charming and handsome young man.

“Oh yes for sure. It’s been way too long. I am actually surprised to see you. I’m really sad that we completely lost touch for a while when I was gone. I really missed our good times together,” Roselyn said truthfully as she remembered some fun moments that they experienced together and then placed her items on the table as she sat down.

“I know, now that we have ran into each other again, I’m starting to have those memories again. We had really good times,” Clay said, chuckling a bit as well.

“I remember when our mother’s would allow us to also have sleepovers and sometimes our friend William would join too. We would play games and watch movies all evening in your basement,” Roselyn said, while smiling happily as she remembered the good days.

“Oh yes, I remember. You and William have always been my closest friends. He actually works with us in the company now too, because we both took a two year business course together at NYU before I started working full time at the Capital with my mom,” Clay said smiling as he drank a sip from his tea.

“Oh that’s amazing. I’m glad you two have stayed in touch and now that I am back, we should all get together sometime, like the old days,” Roselyn suggested happily.

“Absolutely, we definitely need to have a reunion together sometime. So how long have you been back in New York?” Clay asked Roselyn.

“ I have been home for a few months now and I’m really happy to be close to my family again,” Roselyn said sweetly.

“That’s awesome. I’m glad you are back. I hope you enjoyed your experience studying and living there though,” Clay said kindly, looking up at her innocently with his bright blue eyes.

“Oh yes, I had a really good experience and definitely learned a lot. Some days were really stressful and I just wanted to cry, but I continued to keep going. Once I graduated, I was ready to come back home and find work and live near my parents. I have been living in a small condo near my parent’s place and it was an adjustment for a while because I wasn’t used to living on my own, but now I am starting to really enjoy it,” Roselyn said happily as she took a bite of her brownie.

“That’s great. I am really happy that you were able to enjoy your experience. Are you working in the field now?” Clay asked curiously as he remembered her sharing that she was passionate about graphic design.

“No, I work at Country Harvest Bakery right now, but eventually I would like to look into my field. I just wanted a place to settle for a while and just gain some more work experience first. I do love designing websites and brochures and stuff like that. I might also see if I can look for some side graphic design jobs to gain more experience before looking for something full time,” Roselyn said kindly, explaining that she just wanted a steady schedule for now.

“Well that’s awesome. Let me know when you start looking in your field, because we are looking for more graphic designers for Beresford Capital. If you are interested, let me know and I could probably help you get into something more steady too,” Clay said kindly.

“Sure, I will keep that in mind, thank you Clay,” Roselyn said happily as she then finished her brownie and started taking sips from her tea now.

“You’re welcome, but honestly I wish I was good at designing websites. I tried working on our website for Beresford Capital and it was just really boring and dry. My mom had to help me fix it because it was not good and very embarrassing,” Clay said blushing and laughing about it.

“Awww, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, but yeah I’ll keep you posted and let you know when I am ready to apply there. How long is it before the applications end?” Roselyn asked curiously.

“So applications and interviews are going until the end of the month. You still have a few weeks, but if you are interested in it, I would jump on it as soon as possible. I can give you a link to the website and you can see all the different positions we are looking for and then you just fill in the applications for the positions that you are interested in,” Clay explained to her.

“Okay, I am interested, but I don’t have a lot of experience working in the industry yet. I have only been doing paid coops during my education and put together a portfolio and I did very well in my coops, but I don’t have anything else besides that and also working in cafes,” Roselyn said truthfully with a small sigh.

Clay remembered that Roselyn was always hard on herself and he knew she was very smart and creative, and also had an amazing personality. Beresford Capital needed someone like her to expand the company and make it better. However the decision was up to her of course, but the offer was there.

"You can still apply. Just bring in your resume and your portfolio with your references from your coops. I’m sure that would be fine. If you were working for large companies and you were doing well, I think you would be fine. Plus I can also put a good word for you and let my mom know that you are interested since she is the one going through all the hiring right now,” Clay said kindly trying to reassure her.

“Okay, thank you so much. I will look through your “boring” website tonight and I’ll look at the positions available. I think it would be a good opportunity,” Roselyn said playfully, but she was also serious because she was now considering it.

“Okay, sounds good. It shouldn't be as boring as it was now because it's been fixed, I promise," Clay chuckled as he joked along with her about it. "Seriously though Rose. I am here to help you with anything you need as well,” Clay continued to share with her.

He noticed that her physical appearance had changed a little bit too though. She had been growing up to be a very beautiful young woman. Her hair was about medium shoulder length, and wavy, and it was now dyed light brown, even though he remembered her having raven black hair when she was younger.

As Clay was writing down the information for the job applications, Roselyn was also curious to know about what Clay’s been up to lately as well.

“So, how have you been?” Roselyn asked him curiously.

“Honestly, these past few years have been very stressful for me. Ever since I have been owning Beresford Capital now. I enjoy the job very much and I get to meet a lot of people and connections from different companies all around the world, but there is a lot of pressure and I also have to look after my health, so it’s definitely been a challenge for me to keep up with work and personal life,” Clay said truthfully, and drank another small sip of his tea.

“Oh wow. Congratulations on owning the Capital now at 22 years old too. That is really amazing Clay!” Roselyn said excitedly, feeling really happy for her friend.

“Thank you Roselyn. My mother is still the head owner of the company though. I co-own with her because that way I can manage my stress a bit better and still protect my reputation with people in this career. People still look up to me as a leader, so I still have to present myself professionally, staying confident, calm and assertive, which I am able to keep with, since my mother secretly helps me manage my schedules,” Clay explained truthfully.

“That’s good. I’m glad your mom is there to support and help you manage. I can imagine that it would be very difficult if you had to deal with everything all at once. You have a life outside of work and you should be able to enjoy yourself too,” Roselyn said sweetly, looking up at Clay and she could sense that he was a little nervous talking about this.

“Yeah, I know. Sometimes I will even work from home which is nice because then I can set my own schedule and take my time, plus if I have appointments or errands, I can do those things in between work. Sadly, it’s very difficult to take time for myself though. I am always very tired coming home from work, so I basically just have a bath and then go to bed. Sometimes I have a bit of time to myself to rest and decompress on the weekends, but it just depends on what’s going on because my mom usually invites family or friends over,” Clay said truthfully with a small sigh.

She then looked at Clay sympathetically. She could definitely tell that Clay looked so overwhelmed and exhausted from the constant stress he was dealing with. He was dealing with an intense job, plus trying to manage his health.

“Wow yeah you do have a lot going on. How are things going in terms of your heart condition these days, if you don’t mind me asking of course?” Roselyn asked, feeling a bit nervous to ask as she didn’t want to overwhelm him, but she was concerned about him too.

“I swear to god Roselyn, my body hates me. I don’t know what I did to deserve to have this, but it’s been getting worse over the years now. About a year ago, I suffered from a really severe heart attack. I remember having intense heart palpitations and anxiety attacks as a child, but I have never had a heart attack like that before, so I was really freaked out and I felt I was dying,” Clay said sadly.

Roselyn was really shocked when she heard and felt horrible wishing she could have been there for him at that time. If she had known, she would have done everything she could to be there.

“Oh my goodness, Clay. I am so sorry you went through that,” Roselyn said sadly, almost crying and wanting to give him a hug so badly. He had been through so much when she was gone.

“ I’m okay now but I am still traumatized about that day. I was at work when it was starting to happen. I woke up that morning with a horrible pain in my chest and back. I didn’t think anything of it because I just thought it was just from my usual side effects from a lot of medication that I take. I decided to go into work that day, thinking it would pass. However, as soon as I got to work and sat down at my desk, the pain got so much worse and I was struggling to take breaths in. It started feeling like my heart was exploding out of my chest and it kept getting harder and harder to breathe and then I started reaming and panting for help. Eventually it got to the point where I basically collapsed on the floor. William told me that he had seen me collapse and he was really freaked out and he called the ambulance right away and I was rushed into the hospital. I don’t remember anything after that, but I do have memories waking up in the hospital and everything was blurry. I was crying because I was so scared at that point because I didn’t know what was happening to me. My mom was in the room with me and she was crying when she saw me waking up,” Clay said sadly, as he choked on his words. This was very difficult for him to talk about.

"Wow, that is really scary. I wish I could have been there to help during that time. If I had known about it, I totally would have tried to visit and be there for you,” Roselyn said nervously, and also feeling sad for him as she wanted to give him a hug.

“It’s okay Roselyn. I’m feeling fine now. I was very lucky that day because one of the doctors on call that day had saved my life. I am so grateful that he did because if it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have been here right now. His name is Jack Harper. He and I have actually become good friends, and we actually go fishing and have drinks together sometimes. He has been there for me since then. If I ever need anything, he told me I can contact him anytime and he will do his best to help me,” Clay said, feeling a little better after mentioning Jack.

“That’s good. I am glad you are okay now,” Roselyn said sadly, trying to stay calm, still stroking his hand gently.

“Yes, for now I’m okay. I am still really scared though because Jack told me that my heart is failing and without receiving a transplant, I only have a few years or less left before going into heart failure. I am on the donor list right now, but it’s been a long process because they have to find a proper match for me and my blood type is rare. I am so unlucky in that regard,” Clay said sadly.

All of this news was so difficult for Roselyn to hear because it broke her to see her friend suffering so much. Clay was so innocent, pure and kind. She also knew how strong and driven Clay was. Even though he suffered with this condition, he was always trying to do the best he could to keep pushing and moving forward.

Roselyn took Clay’s hand, holding it gently as she looked up at him sympathetically.

“Wow, again. I am so sorry. If there is anything I can do for you to help, let me know. I really want to be here for you right now,” Roselyn said sadly.

“Thank you Roselyn. I do feel better that I was able to talk about this with you. It’s a subject I don’t really like to bring up to anyone, unless I feel comfortable. I am trying to stay hopeful that soon I will find a donor. It’s really hard on my body, but at least I can still function with medication and right now that’s important. Please I don’t want you to worry about me. One thing I really need right now is just for you to just be here and enjoy our company together, just like old times. I am really trying to focus on the present and appreciating what I have right now and that’s all I can do to keep myself going,” Clay said sadly, with a small tear running down his cheek.

“Of course. I am always here,” Roselyn said sweetly, taking his hand gently.

“Thank you Roselyn,” Clay said, while softly wiping his tears away from his weeks as he tried to collect himself again.

“ Everything is going to be okay Clay. I promise. I am also confident that you will be able to continue your future and have a good life. You are honestly so strong and stubborn. You never give up and that is so amazing. I struggle with my own personal depression and anxiety, and some days I can’t even manage to get out of bed,” Roselyn said sadly.

“Oh trust me. I have those moments too every day, but being able to keep going helps distract me from going into really scary thoughts. I refuse to give up because I still want to prove myself wrong,” Clay said in a bit more of a confident tone.

“Yeah that’s great, I am also taking some of your advice and even if life is difficult, I have my ways of coping now to help myself get back up. I remember you used to love to write stories or in your journal and draw during your spare time. Do you still make time to enjoy those things to help cope?” Roselyn asked kindly as she finished eating the last bits of her brownie.

“Sometimes. It depends on the mood. As I mentioned before I usually sleep a lot because I am always so exhausted. During the very little times I do have, I do try to write in my journal though. It helps keep my mind clear. Sometimes if I have more energy, I still like to lounge in the pool or hottub and go for walks by myself to the park near my house and sit on one of the benches for a while too,” Clay said kindly.

“Oh nice. I still enjoy drawing and writing too and sometimes on my days off, I like to go work out in my gym at the condo, or I’ll go for a swim. Also going out to cafe’s for a while to write and enjoy a little snack helps me cope sometimes too,” Roselyn said.

“That’s good. I like to go to cafe’s too, mainly smaller and family owned cafes. I just chose to come here today because they have the Pumpkin spice chai latte right now for fall, and it is my favorite hot drink at the moment,” Clay said smiling.

“Nice, I got Pumpkin Spice latte, and a chocolate brownie. I do love my sweets,” Roselyn said, chuckling a bit.

“Oh I know you do. I do too though. I had a carrot cake muffin earlier. I can’t have those everyday because they are very rich and I have to be careful, but once in a while, it’s fine,” Clay said, and chuckled a bit as well. He was already feeling better now that Roselyn cheered him up.

“Awww well you deserve it today. I am just glad that you are doing okay. I hope we can hang out again sometime. I really enjoyed catching up with you. It would be nice for us to just go out and do something fun. I think we both need that,” Roselyn said excitedly with a small smile.

“Yeah, I agree with you and I would love to do something together for sure, but it might be difficult to go out somewhere, because my mom is very protective of me and still treats me like a teenager sometimes and it’s very frustrating. I have to coordinate this with my mom, but you could come over to my place sometime for supper and then we could do something fun, hang out in the hot tub and maybe go for a walk or something. We also have the indoor pool if you want to go swimming as well,” Clay suggested.

Roselyn also remembered his mom being very strict and protective over him, but she was also very kind and gentle when she wanted to be. Rose knew that she was only doing what she did to look out for him, but at some times, she did go a bit too far. Roselyn was looking forward to seeing her again though, especially if she was now considering applying at Beresford Capital.

“Yeah I would love to come over sometime. It would also be nice to see your mom again too. Let me know when you're free and we can definitely plan something. You are always welcome to come over to my place too in the future,” Roselyn said sweetly as they both took their phone numbers and email addresses down.

“Okay, I am very busy this week with appointments and work meetings and this weekend my grandparents are coming over, but I will keep you posted on Sunday and see what times I have available next week. It will probably be on a weekend most likely though,” Clay said, putting a note on his pager to remind himself to talk to his mom about it.

“Perfect sounds great, we will go from there. I’m glad we were able to catch up today,” Roselyn said happily.

“Yeah me too. I’m really happy that we are able to see each other more often again. There is something I would like to talk with you about as well, but I don’t have much time today as I have to head out soon. However, when we hang out next maybe we could find a little bit of time to talk about it?” Clay asked curiously, as he wanted to mention to her that he was also seeing someone. In fact he was actually secretly engaged to his mother’s personal assistant, Samantha Lockwood.

"Sure, sounds good Clay. I am always here for you if you need to talk," Roselyn said kindly.

Clay looked at the time and realized that he needed to start heading home soon. His mother, Lilith didn’t like him staying out too late and he found it frustrating that his mother was still trying to control everything in his life and he wanted to create a life of his own. Yes he understood that she was really worried about him due to his condition and because he was so young and naive, he was easy to manipulate. Lilith knew this because there had been people in the past who Clay tried to befriend during school, and they ended up just using him for money and treating him horribly. She ended up finding out about how awful the other kids would treat him sometimes and she would even get involved with the school, and Lilith was not an easy person to get along with when she was angry. Clay was really trying to make better choices in his life, could he do better, absolutely, but he was still learning. He was an adult now and it was important that he started making his own life decisions for himself.

“Well, I am sorry to cut our time short, but I am going to have to go home now. Samantha, my mother’s personal assistant, is here to pick me up and bring me home. I would love to hang out again though,” Clay said sadly, as he wished he didn’t have to be home so early.

“Yes for sure, we will keep each other posted, you have a good night,” Clay said kindly.

“Alright sounds good. I should get going as well. I’ll keep in contact with you though” Roselyn said kindly as they were both getting ready to leave.

“You too,” Roselyn said as they both walked out of the cafe.

#hayden christensen #awake 2007 #clay beresford #alternate universe #fanfiction #Clay deserves better #need more clay beresford content #Samantha Lockwood #Lilith Beresford #my oc

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tomasdiaz · 1 year ago

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( pedro pascal, he/him, male ) i’m pretty sure i just ran into tomas diaz! you know them, they’re the 45 year old bar owner that’s been here for 15 years. they can be pretty patient, but on the d.l., they’re also stoic. i have their ringtone set as hip to be square by huey lewis and the news in my cell. next time you’re around manhattan, tell them to give me a call! (kirby!)

stats!

name: tomas vicente gutierrez diaz

d.o.b.: december 1, 1959

hometown: punta arenas, chile; albany, ny

current residence: manhattan, nyc

height: 5'11"

sexuality: homosexual

positive traits: patient, generous, careful

negative traits: stoic, closed off, stubborn

family: isidora diaz (50y/o, sister), dominga diaz (48y/o, sister) jj duval (24y/o, godson)

bio! (tw alcohol, drugs, overdose, addiction)

tomas was the third and final child born into his family, and the only boy in the bunch. his sisters preceded him by a few years a piece. just a few years after he was born, they packed up and moved across the world, from chile all the way to albany, new york, where his father worked on an assembly line and his mother ran a small daycare out of their quaint home. it wasn't a lavish life, but they got by just fine.

with their living situation, tomas was surrounded by kids pretty much always. his sisters as well as the kids his mother looked after. he always felt... out of place. not for any particular reason, he just tended to hide himself away in the corner of whatever room they were in, much preferring to keep to himself and do his own thing. his parents often tried to get him to mingle, to interact more with the other children and make friends, but it never quite stuck.

not until high school. through most of his life, he kept to himself and stayed quiet, but as a teenager he steadily started making friends. maybe not... the right friends. the crowd he started to run with were a little bit difficult. they skipped school, got high, caused trouble. tomas had always felt like an outcast, so befriending a small group of them finally gave him something he'd never really felt before. acceptance.

things just got rougher and rougher, though. in school it was weed and whatever drinks they could score either from their parents or the corner store. once they graduated, tomas and his friends turned to harder drugs. what had just been fun and carefree became an addiction. not a day went by that tomas didn't get drunk before 3pm, and most of his money was blown on whatever drugs he could get his hands on. and when you were working odd jobs here and there and renting out motel rooms a few times a week, money was not an easy thing to hold onto.

by the time he was twenty-five, tomas had been suffering with addiction for years. his parents were quietly supportive, trying desperately to offer help without offering it outright. they'd learned the hard way that tomas got extremely offended at the suggestion that he needed help. but eventually, after an altercation with a cop, he was forced into rehab, angering him and thrilling his family. thus began his complicated relationship with recovery.

rehab helped in spurts. sometimes he'd have a good therapist, someone that understood what it was like and would actually talk to them like adults, and sometimes the pitying sessions would piss him off. he made some friends that wanted to get better and encouraged him to do the same, and he made some friends that were waiting to get out for another high.

overdose tw! it took a near death experience for tomas to finally shape up. he overdosed - thankfully in a bar bathroom where people were able to get him medical attention immediately. he flatlined in the ambulance and had to be revived by paramedics.

ironically, the threat of eternal sleep was a wake up call. it wasn't easy by any means, but tomas put himself through rehab again, this time willingly, he went to support groups, he cut toxic people out of his life. by the time he was thirty, he was clean, and he has been for fifteen years now.

after getting clean, tomas moved from albany into the city. he found a job at a bar in manhattan, commuting on the train every day for a long time. first he was just cleaning and acting as a stand-in bouncer whenever people got too rowdy - as a former addict, he knew just how crazy things could get if not taken care of quickly. at first it was hard for him to be around, but as time went on, he felt immune to his surroundings. and he continued working at the bar for years.

it took a long time, but eventually, tomas saved up and purchased the bar from the retiring owner, just shy of his thirty-eighth birthday. the only business knowledge he had was from books, as he'd never even stepped foot on a college campus, but he figured it out and worked his ass off to do so. now, he owns two bars in manhattan, and lives in a much nicer place than he ever could have imagined for himself

headcanons + wanted connections!

tomas' high school best buddy had a kid, jj, when they were in their early 20s and named tomas his godfather, and tomas more or less adopted him when jj was 17. not legally or anything, but... jj has been living with him since then and they both very much consider each other the only close family they've got. that's tomas' kiddo right there.

both of tomas' parents have died since he moved to new york - his father about six years ago and his mother about two. it's just him and his sisters now

his relationship with them was weird for a while, but they're friendly now! tomas tries to drive out to see them a few times a year.

tomas is gay and has known that for a really, really long time. he doesn't "come out" formally very much anymore though, he just kind of. is gay and expects the people around him to figure it out. it's easier!

100% straight edge. tomas hasn't done any drugs or had a drink of alcohol in over 10 years. kinda judgey if other people indulge

kinda judgey period, tbh. like he's a nice guy, but he has opinions about everything.

i would love some regulars at his bars! i think he's there a lot bartending or just helping his staff out. or past/current employees maybe!

neighbors that he's friendly with would be nice! he lives in manhattan, but he lived in the bronx for a long long time so former ones would be fun too!

a fling or two? tomas hasn't been in many serious relationships, so i think he sticks to casual shit for the most part

anything honestly, im obsessed with all of you and want all the plots

#this one is so heavy. im so sorry lmfafhafh #aughtsintro #drugs tw #alcohol tw #addiction tw #overdose tw

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ladykonfidential1 · 2 years ago

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6 Amazing Benefits of Sex Toys

Sex toys have gotten a bad rap over the years. But they can actually be a lot of fun, and they can offer some pretty amazing benefits. Here are six reasons why you should consider adding a sex toy to your love life:

Sex toys can help with premature ejaculation.

Premature ejaculation is the most common form of male sexual dysfunction, affecting as many as 30 million men in America. It can be caused by stress, anxiety or even just physical exhaustion. But it’s also a problem that can be alleviated with the help of sex toys. The reason why is simple: Sex toys give you an excuse to take your time when you’re pleasuring your partner. Sex toys can help you last longer in bed.

Sex toys are a great way to get comfortable with your body.

Sex toys are a great way to get comfortable with your body. They can help you learn what you enjoy, and what you don't. They can also teach you to love yourself for who you are, regardless of what other people may think about the way that looks or works.

They can help you get in touch with your body's responses during sex.

You can use sex toys to help you get in touch with your body's responses during sex. Sex toys are great tools for learning more about what feels good and what doesn't, as well as experimenting with different kinds of stimulation. They're also useful if you have trouble communicating clearly with your partner about what turns you on (or off).

Sex toys can help you and your partner explore different positions.

Sex toys are a great way to try new things in the bedroom. A vibrator may be able to provide stimulation that you and your partner might not be able to achieve with just hands or mouths alone, allowing for deeper penetration or more stimulation of erogenous zones.

Vibrators are also helpful when it comes to reaching new heights of pleasure, whether they're used internally or externally on sensitive areas like nipples or clitorises. Using sex toys can also help couples learn about each other's bodies by exploring what feels good together through trial-and-error--and if there's one thing we know about experimentation, it's that sometimes things don't go according to plan!

But don't worry: even if something doesn't work out exactly how either party expected (or wanted), this will only make future experiences better as both parties become more familiar with what works best for them individually as well as together as a couple. And finally..

Vibrators and other toys can help women reach orgasm more easily than without them.

Vibrators are especially useful for women who have trouble reaching orgasm or who have trouble reaching orgasm with a partner. The vibration helps stimulate the clitoris in a way that's not possible with fingers, making it easier for some women to achieve an orgasm through masturbation or sex with a partner. For example, if you're new at using sex toys and find that your orgasms aren't coming easy yet, try experimenting with different speeds and vibrations until you find one that feels good for you.

Sex toys are a great way to enhance your sex life, whether you're using them solo or with a partner. They can help you get in touch with your body's responses during sex, explore new positions and positions that might be difficult without the aid of something like a vibrator, as well as reach orgasm more easily than without them.

The best thing about all of this? It doesn't have to cost an arm and leg! There are plenty of affordable options out there if budget is an issue for you or just want something simple but effective before spending big bucks on something fancy (which we totally understand).

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#adult store nyc #adult store near me #adult store mid-town #adult store manhattan

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citrusreadstoa · 2 years ago

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Reading The Hidden Oracle: Chapter 20 (SPOILERS)

"Of course, the previous Oracle had been a withered corpse, so perhaps the bar was low." Yeah, that's... that's a pretty low bar. Is the Oracle a job you can really bring excitement and vigor to? Most of the time it's just going about your day and making sure you're prepared to be possessed at any moment, right? Sometimes getting prophetic visions (in Rachel's case, prophetic paintings) and the occasional prophecy poem?

"Miss Dare looked thinner and older . . . She was not the same person." Wow, I guess the capture of Delphi not only affects the Oracle spirit but also its host vessel? That, and she just came from the Clarion Ladies' Academy, which cannot be a fun experience.

"stale crackers from the Oracle's larder." LARDER (n.): a room or large cupboard for storing food

"[Millard and Herbert] arrived at my house badly wounded. They... they didn't make it." What killed the satyrs??? Did the Beast send someone or something after them to try to keep Rachel from getting to camp? Omg imagine being Rachel: the Oracle suddenly stops working, all prophecies stop working even after Gaea is gone, then in the middle of your miserable boarding school year, two satyrs arrive at your home bleeding to death and you come to camp hoping for answers only to find the god that's supposed to help you fix the prophecies has been turned human. Bad year. Anyway, neither of them were the satyr that was teaching the music class or announcing the death race, right? No, I looked it up. That was Woodrow.

"That is the building you described last summer . . . where you parleyed with the Romans." "how did the Romans take over such prime Manhattan real estate on such short notice?" WAIT THAT'S RIGHT. I always thought we were just supposed to suspend our disbelief on stuff like that, like how and where the Romans got enough cars to take them and all their stuff across the country or whoever Octavian bought those HOUSE-SIZED onager catapults from. I just assumed they had connections with demigods who made it out in the mortal world.

"The mother company is something called Triumvirate Holdings." That sounds very Roman. "a ruling council of three . . . in ancient Rome." "three shadowy figures stood talking together--men in business suits" Is this serious? Is the Big Bad of this series going to be a corporation? Is Apollo's task going to be to... Is Apollo going to have to take down capitalism? Is the Big Bad capitalism? LMAO prophecy and capitalism: the two themes of TOA (jkjkjk)

"Adult demigods? I can't imagine they would be Greek, but perhaps Roman?" PFFFT HAHAHA Yes, because CHB doesn't prepare their kids for life in the outside world; they just assume they won't live 'til twenty and if they do, they won't last out there for long! :D

"the weapons were paid for by Triumvirate Holdings." Oh, so they paid for it, but they still bought them from somewhere. WHO??? Who sells ancient Roman siege weapons? "Luke Castellan mentioned he had backers in the mortal world . . . enough money to buy a cruise ship, helicopters, weapons . . . mortal mercenaries." OH AND LUKE! This goes far back! And lol, yeah, cruise ship with mortals included. This goes deep...

"What if this company is the root cause of... well, everything?" What are they, the Illuminati? Did they cause the Great Stirring or at least profit off of it?

"Rachel sat up straight. 'Excuse me? Oracles plural?'" Lol Rachel, you should be familiar with the gods and their infidelity by now. Jkjk but it's funny to see her jealous of him having other Oracles even though Delphi is obviously his favorite.

So, a triumvirate is a leading group of three -- a trio. And it's implied that Triumvirate Holdings is run by three ancient Romans. But the Roman emperors quiz I took on the Read Riordan website had four possible results! (The words "YOU GOT CALIGULA!" will forever haunt me.) Let's just see how this goes, then.

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kealygirl · 2 years ago

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My final creative project is focused on your room, specifically, how I think it is the most creative space you can have. It’s where only you sleep and can have any certain kind of privacy. It is the only room in the house you can make entirely yours. Growing up, I have accumulated tens, maybe even hundreds of tchotchkes, from traveling, gifts, things I found at thrift stores, stuff I've found in the literal garbage, side of the road, etc. There is a story behind each and everyone of them. My room is full of personality and some people tell me it makes them anxious sometimes which I understand. I love filling in every inch of space in my room, without the things I put on display I don't feel like it’s my room. I stress a lot about growing older and having to remove all of my things. Does growing up mean you have to change your room to look more adult? For this project I removed all of my tchotchkes to show how a room can change and the energy it gives off. Without my little decorations there's a lot of empty open space, with very little personality. I then rearranged them in rainbow order on my desk to show almost everything I have because there isn't enough room for it. i also saw my bed as a creative space and removed the aspects that i have incorporated to customize to myself. removing the items and decor really changed the entirety of the room, make your room yours🫶🏻

The remy martin bottle is by fetty wap (an artist), i found it on the side of the road at senior week because it's a rare and expensive bottle

A lot of my little glass animals are from italy

The fake flower plants are from thrift stores

I made the candle sticks in the bottles myself from thrifted candle sticks

I am a very spiritual person, i have many many crystals that i get wherever i see them

I have a “love potion” bottle from the museum of sex in manhattan NY

The miniature tabasco bottles are from steak 48

The mini Tajin bottle is from my sister for my birthday because she knows i love mini things

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sequelscreen · 2 years ago

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'Donald Trump raped me,' writer tells jury in lawsuit trial

Writer E Jean Carroll told the jury on Wednesday that Donald Trump raped her nearly 30 years ago and when she wrote about it, he lied.

A writer explained in graphic detail on Wednesday how Donald Trump allegedly raped her nearly 30 years ago, at a civil trial to determine whether the former US president assaulted her and then lied about it.

"I'm here because Donald Trump raped me, and when I wrote about it, he lied and said it didn't happen," E Jean Carroll told jurors in federal court in Manhattan. "He lied and shattered my reputation, and I'm here to try and get my life back."

Carroll, 79, a former Elle magazine advice columnist, is seeking unspecified damages from Trump, 76, who leads the Republican field in the 2024 presidential campaign.

Her lawsuit concerns an alleged encounter in a Bergdorf Goodman department store dressing room in late 1995 or early 1996, where she says Trump raped her before she could flee.

Carroll says Trump defamed her by calling her rape claim a hoax, lie and "complete con job" on his Truth Social media platform, and said she was not his "type" and had made up the claim to sell her memoir.

She is also suing under New York's Adult Survivors Act, which lets adults sue their alleged abusers long after statutes of limitations have run out.

Trump is not attending and not required to attend the trial, which began on Tuesday. He has a scheduled New Hampshire campaign event on Thursday, and both sides have indicated it is unlikely Trump will testify.

Trump maintained his scorn nonetheless for Carroll's case on Truth Social on Wednesday, calling her lawyer a "political operative" and the rape claim "a made up SCAM," adding: "This is a fraudulent & false story--Witch Hunt!"

US District Judge Lewis Kaplan warned that Trump could face more legal problems if he kept discussing the case.

'I CAN STILL FEEL IT,' TRUMP'S ACCUSER SAYS

Carroll testified that she had met Trump years before the alleged rape, finding him "very personable" and a "man about town."

At Bergdorf, Carroll recalled that she was leaving the store when Trump recognized her and held up his hand. She stopped.

"He said, 'Hey, you are that advice lady,'" Carroll recalled. "I said, 'Hey, you are that real estate tycoon.'"

Carroll said Trump bantered in a "joshing" tone as he shopped for lingerie for another woman.

She said Trump asked her to try on a piece of lingerie, prompting her to joke that he should try it on.

Carroll said Trump then coaxed her into an open dressing room, shut the door, shoved her against a wall, and pulled down her tights. She choked up and fought back tears as she described pushing him back.

Trump's fingers "went into my vagina, which was extremely painful, extremely painful," and he also "inserted his penis," she said.

"As I'm sitting here today I can still feel it," she said. "It left me unable to ever have a romantic life again."

Asked by her lawyer if she told Trump "no," Carroll said "I may have said it" but did not know.

She also said she blamed herself, and feared she would be fired and Trump would retaliate if she reported him.

Inspired by the #MeToo movement, Carroll came forward in 2019, and denied Trump's repeated suggestions it was because she disliked his politics.

"I'm not settling a political score at all," Carroll said. "I'm settling a personal score because he called me a liar repeatedly, and it really has decimated my reputation."

She said Trump's attacks caused Elle to fire her, costing her 8 million readers, and left others convinced she was a liar.

Carroll broke down when asked if she regretted ending her silence.

"I've regretted this about 100 times," she said, "but in the end being able to get my day in court finally is everything to me."

Lawyers for Trump are expected to question Carroll on Thursday, including over her inability to remember when the alleged rape took place.

OUTSIDE INTERFERENCE

Trump posted his latest comments on Truth Social about an hour before Wednesday's testimony began.

He questioned how anyone could believe he - "being very well known, to put it mildly!" - could have raped Carroll.

"She didn't scream?" Trump wrote. "There are no witnesses? Nobody saw this?"

The posts led Kaplan to tell Trump's legal team, outside the jury's presence, that Trump appeared to be "endeavoring, certainly, to speak to his quote-unquote public" and to the jury about matters that have "no business being spoken about."

Kaplan also said Trump could be "tampering with a new source of liability" if he continued. Trump's lawyer Joe Tacopina said he would tell Trump to stop.

But concern about social media influencing the trial resurfaced after Trump's son Eric tweeted on Wednesday afternoon about Reid Hoffman, the billionaire LinkedIn co-founder and prominent Democratic donor helping fund Carroll's case.

Eric Trump said Hoffman's involvement was "an embarrassment to our country, should be illegal and tells you everything you need to know about the case."

Kaplan told Tacopina such comments needed to stop.

"There are some relevant US statutes here, and somebody on your side ought to be thinking about them," Kaplan said.

The judge also said Donald Trump's lawyers cannot mention Hoffman at the trial, calling it "unfairly prejudicial."

#Donald Trump #E Jean Carroll

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shesirens · 2 years ago

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spotted ! AMBHOM ‘JENI’ SUKSI on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid ! many say that the THIRTY ONE year old looks like DAVIKA HOORNE , but i don’t really see it . while the ACTRESS & SOCIALITE is known for being COSMOPOLITAN my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be HEDONISTIC . i swear , every time i think of them , i hear the song HIGHER BY RIHANNA .

full name : ambhom janneke suksi . nickname(s) : jeni . origin : ambhom [ thai origin meaning sky ] , last [ thai origin , unknown ] . age : thirty one . date of birth : december 24th, 1991 . place of birth : auckland , new zealand . gender : cis woman . pronouns : she / her / hers . religion : agnostic . sexual orientation : heterosexual heteroromantic . language(s) : thai and english . occupation : award winning actress and founder / ceo of suksi beauty .

it’s nearing christmas of 1991 in auckland , new zealand when a nervous yet excited kamnan suksi rushes his wife , anneke , to the nearest hospital . the couple was overjoyed to be having their first child together , but their daughter wasn’t due for another week ! the couple spend the next three days in auckland city hospital , with anneke in labor for eighteen hours . after years of being with one another , the couple welcomed their first and only child , ambhom into the world just a few short hours before christmas day .

for the next ten years , ambhom is nicknamed jeni and the family lives comfortably in the affluent neighborhood of herne bay thanks to kamnan’s work as a successful entrepreneur in the city and anneke’s past as a highly sought after model . it’s no surprise that jeni develops an interest in the arts thanks to the exposure that she receives as a child , often attending different camps to find her interest . the little girl is animated with the blessing of comedic timing , and it’s when she’s five that she is placed in front of the camera for the first time .

the beautiful little girl stars in several commercials in auckland , and it’s no denying her talent . for years , she auditions for small roles in television shows , eventually being approached to pursue bigger roles by auditioning to be represented by a company in new york city . initially , anneke and kamnan are nervous to expose their daughter to the film industry , afraid of what could become of her in such a cutthroat world . they talk it over with jeni , wanting to be sure that acting is what she truly wants , and before the family knows it , they’re settling in an expansive condo in the bustling city of manhattan .

jeni signs on to be represented by the company , and she starts her auditions . at first , it’s the same story of commercials and ad campaigns for the likes of macy’s and other popular department stores , until she finally nabs her big break . she nabs the role of rory gilmore in an upcoming series , at the tender age of fifteen . the role proves perfect for the teen , with her dry humor and line delivery often praised . jeni is well loved by the public despite it being her first role , and finds herself in the position as something of a media darling .

the series ends when she’s twenty two , and she takes on her first adult role as andrea fitzgerald in gone girl , effectively shedding her child star image . the next couple of years fly by , and jeni lands the coveted role of eve polastri in the bbc series killing eve . the show skyrockets jeni’s level of fame at the young age of twenty four . for the next four years , jeni splits her time between europe and new york , before she decides to purchase a home in los angeles in late 2019 . before jeni made los angeles her home , she starred in her academy award winning role of amelia dolan in la la land , yet another role that skyrockets her career even higher than before .

with a number of prestigious awards under her belt , most of the industry was surprised when jeni suddenly stepped out of the spotlight after her last film role in 2020 . jeni had always had something of a private life , so the sudden sabbatical stunned the public as they wondered if she was leaving acting for good . despite having a much smaller resume compared to other actors , jeni had established herself as a highly sought after actress , and simply found that she was ready to pursue another avenue . after three years of work , jeni debuts her brand suksi beauty , and it’s an instant hit .

now , jeni still hasn’t officially come out of her sabbatical , but she has signed on for a new role . she is primarily working on growing her brand , but still is hailed as a media darling despite how privatized her life is . she’s well known for having a pleasant personality and for embodying the good of celebrity , but she does find herself to be the center of baseless rumors like others . jeni has a humble disposition as well , although she is often labeled as an ice queen as she isn’t very forthcoming when it comes to being asked invasive questions that she doesn’t want to answer .

headcanons.

jeni is the kind of woman who appears as mysterious as they come . she is the type to have a drink in a crowded bar and leave before midnight .

she sometimes struggles with expressing her feelings , and she does not like to invite people into her life who only seek to hurt her in the end . in the media she is seen as warm and inviting , but in private she can be rather reserved and sometimes even skeptical of all that goes on around her .

resides in an expansive hollywood hills , california home with a value at $6.9 million . she purchased the home shortly after returning from europe following the completion of killing eve , and has resided there ever since . although she doesn’t drive often , jeni has made a 2023 porsche taycan as her preferred vehicle .

following her divorce , jeni has no interest in forming long term relationships . she doesn’t have a fear of them , but she doesn’t know how to move on just yet . she would rather bide her time with meaningless hookups , even though those are pretty much nonexistent as well .

no one knew jeni was married until after her divorce was finalized . she is too good at keeping her private life to herself , which is why there was no information regarding their engagement or wedding ( especially as the ceremony was private and in their shared home ) . tabloids were suspicious , but were never successful with proof until the divorce was settled .

she has a driver named meyer , which she has had for the last five years . he is best described as an older man , about mid - 50s , with salt and pepper hair and a greyed beard . he stands at 5′11″ and the two have a close relationship .

jeni took a sabbatical for two and a half years to officially launch and promote her makeup brand , suksi beauty . the brand has been showered with praise since its release , and is currently sold in sephora stores as well as through the brand’s website . suksi beauty is headquartered in jeni’s home country of new zealand , and there are three brick - and - mortar stores in los angeles , new york , and auckland .

#hillzhqsintro #1 / 4 !

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