BABY I'M A STAR !

Look at all those movie stars They're all so beautiful and clean When the housemaids scrub the floors They get the spaces in between I wanna live a life like that I wanna be just like a king Take my picture by the pool Cause I'm the next big thing ! var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5518593"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "//freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1=&e2=&r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write("");

[poeticiism]

LOCATION: CHE AND HIS FAMILY’S HIGH END ESTATE

“DO YOU WANT A HIT?” che extends his perfectly pearled joint out as an offering. his parents had given up on asking him not to smoke in the house when he was in high school. all the private school kids were stoners. he was introduced to his first joint when he was only thirteen. the rest was history. “blazy susan’s are the best rolling papers, I swear by them and they have a cool ass name.” @nottinghillstarters​ 

[poeticiism]

LOCATION: @ WOLFE’S DEN

“ARE YA MISSING ME BEHIND THE BAR?” micah asks before taking a seat at the bar he usually found himself on the other side of. he liked to think that he was someone’s favorite bartender out there in the crowd of regulars. his mom had always told him he had the gift of gab. micah could talk himself out of anything and could persuade you to buy the shirt off his back if he needed the money bad enough. his superb social skills earning him quite the load in tips when chatting it up and exchanging banter with the locals as he served their drinks. even on his day off he couldn’t stay away from the den. the energy at night was like no other place in nottinghill and he was itching for a fix. @nottinghillstarters​

[poeticiism]

LOCATION: @ cloud nine club

“FUCK, HELP ME GET OUTTA HERE.” orlando’s preplanned night of fun was coming to an abrupt end. the kook from the club she danced at on the weekends had followed her after her shift to cloud nine. she wasn’t too worried, but, she’d rather be safe than sorry, and she didn’t have her gun on her. something she was now bullying herself for. pissed that she hadn’t been more careful when leaving her night job. she’d barely got to drink like she wanted to. “after one more shot though.” she sighed, signaling to the bartender that they needed another round. orlando patiently waited, ready to down the shot as soon as it arrived. letting the sting in the back of her throat burn a little longer before chasing it down with a lime. “see that guy over there? he’s a wack job from the strip joint down the road. he must’ve followed me here after I got him kicked out earlier.” @nottinghillstarters​ 

[poeticiism]

LOCATION: @ any thrift shop in nottinghill 

“DO YOU THINK THIS IS A REAL OSCAR?” the ex-super model teases. the replica of the american award she was now holding in her palm was cheaply made and painted with a thin coat of gold that was supposed to resemble a trophy finish. obviously she knew it was a fake, she’d only hit the thrifting jackpot once while residing in nottinghill when she stumbled upon an authentic vintage gucci satchel at the exact store they were roaming about now. still, she liked to daydream and come up with stories for all the donated items that filled the shelves. wondering what this oscar replica could possibly have been used for in the past, dandelion turns again to the person with her and says “maybe this was used as a movie prop?” @nottinghillstarters​ 

[poeticiism]

LOCATION: @ caroline spencer’s lavender townhome in nottinghill 

“I’M BEING SO FUCKING FOR REAL AS MACKENZIE WOULD SAY...” mackenzie was her sixteen year old daughter, who was always catching her up on the gen z slang. the stress lines on caroline’s forehead protruding as she continues with her newest revelations about her marriage. “it’s like he’s completely checked out. I carry everything on my back....alone. I don’t want a ‘d word’ but i’m miserable and losing all hope at this point. I swear to god, I sacrifice so much for him and he can’t even do the simplest things like show up on time for his own daughters recital or I don’t know, remember our birthday’s without me having to remind him a week in advanced. that’s a shitty husband right? my husband is shitty.” the blonde housewife and mother was losing all her wits. everyday was like a time loop, she did the same things, and got the same results. the definition of insanity. “sorry for dumping on you again, but, god, it’s like every time I speak it goes in one ear and out the other with him. I don’t even remember the last time he’s held me when we went to sleep at night.” @nottinghillstarters​ 

[poeticiism]

LOCATION: @ somewhere ‘instragrammable’ in nottinghill

“HOLD THAT POSE” the latina squeals, practically diving for her phone so she can capture the perfect shot of the other standing before them. they were always looking for the perfect instagram shot, being an instragram model and all. she was as equally as talented behind the camera as she was Infront of it. she was also her own editor too. low budget living room photoshoots had been what started her climb to influencer status. she could turn a drab and ordinary kitchen shot into something unrecognizable. after snapping a few different angles and poses, she smiles with approval. “uhg, i’m so jealous. I wish I had me to take pictures of me.” @nottinghillstarters​ 

[poeticiism]

ameliarbennett​:​

As Amelia found herself at Wolfe’s Den yet again, she tried to guiltily remind herself that people would kill, literally and figuratively, to live as she did. To have a lifestyle not only bankrolled by her father but her godfather too. If she asked, she could have whatever this island offered her but having lived as almost everyone else for so many years and a workaholic to boot, it was a little more than difficult for the American. Her fallen emotional state seemed to serve to her physical recovery negatively and as if to drag her out of yet another pit of despair, her bodyguard dragged her out for dinner. Not together - no, that would have been far too easy, he had plucked her down at the bar and moved to the corner of the room; a place that gave him a prime view of her and the other patrons. The nurse was momentarily upset, mostly at herself, for revealing that she was definitely an extrovert who loved talking before all the mess happened to her in January. It was a reminder that sometimes telling the truth really could be a pain in the butt. Luckily Genevieve (Ginnie, she tried to remember - it was ironic that being American she struggled affecting closeness with others now) had showed up, or not so judging by the other nurse’s body language. For once, she allowed her to take the lead while the blonde bid her time until she felt comfortable enough to share. The confession kicked her right in the heart, winding her for a few moments. Amelia’s own most recent experience came to mind and even if it had been months since then, she still felt the sting. “Hmm…it’s definitely not good to be alone now…” She offered in agreement. There were many platitudes Amelia could have offered but from experience, knew they sounded empty in such a state. “If you want to talk about it…I’m here. Can’t promise I’m much better than grief counselling…but at the very least, I’ll understand what you’re going through. Drink?” Amelia suggested, marveling at how it was so easy for her to repress the trauma that physically walked with her in exchange for…something. 

GINNIE FELT VALIDATED in her choice to pop in at the wolfe’s den after amelia agreed it would be no good for her to be alone right now. she hadn’t even had a chance to change out of her scrubs. they were practically a part of her, like a permanent uniform. only a rare occasion would you run into ginnie without them draping her body as if they were part of her skin. something she was certain amelia hand first had knowledge of. nurses stuck together, and ginnie was grateful for any kind of support tonight. there was probably no one better to understand in this bar than amelia. when ginnie used to call her sister up late at night after a troubling shift, she always hung up the phone at the end of the conversation feeling like her sister didn’t really grasp the true heaviness her job came with. it was different when talking to someone who had actually been through the exact scenario’s genevive had found herself in after choosing to work in the nicu. “ thank you, really, amelia, it means a lot. ” ginnie lets out a sigh she wasn’t aware she was holding until now. she gives the bartender a smile and orders a tequila sunrise. she’s so predictable. never straying from her routine. she makes a mental note to switch it up next time. a note she’ll most definitely ignore, opting for the safe and familiar choice as always. “ I don’t want to go on all night like a hopeless depressed nurse... ” she pauses. laughing to herself at the fact she is exactly what she claims not to be. a hopeless, depressed, nurse. “but...” another pause as she suddenly remembers the looming data protection act that hung over all medical professionals. she would have to speak in hypotheticals or give her patient an alias to keep things legal. “baby a, we’ll call them...” careful to keep even their gender private she continues on with her sad NICU tale of the night. “they were born premature, so, of course we knew there would be complications, obstacles, the odds were okay at first, and then after they were born, they suddenly started showing us that they were a fighter, determined to beat the odds stacked against them, and they were doing so well....” she doesn’t hold back the single tear that drops from her light brown irises. “but today out of nowhere, their vitals tanked and well...we lost them. there was nothing we could do.”

[wtf-ollie]

@nottinghillstarters // for anyone In a digital age, one would think there were better ways to do this. Wesley didn't, he didn't feel he could trust the internet, that his kind of people would appreciate the old fashioned method he chose. So there he lumbered. All 6 feet of him reaching up and placing a poster on the wooden telephone post. Just as he was about to push down on the stapler, his brow furrowed, and his lip went in between his teeth. Eyes narrowing for a second before he lowered it to chest level and smiled softly, pressing the staple into the wood. Taking a few steps back, he admired his work. There was only one person walking past on the usually busy down area. Choosing a time when there weren't that many people out had seemed a good idea, he preferred the solitude, until he realized he had no one to tell him if he had officially lost it or not. "hey.." his smile starting to spread across his face as the person got closer, "would you take a phone number from a room for rent poster? or does this feel a little..?" his hand balled into a fist as he made a gesture that closely resembled the iconic scene from psycho. "I promise my intentions are good, just want to make sure this looks as warm as I think it looks" He smirked and turned to face the person who had stumbled upon the conversation that would have been a lot more one sided had they not lent an ear.

[poeticiism]

orlando can’t help but flash her best beauty pageant smile at the much taller boy. standing at a perfect five feet, she was what most considered petite. though her stature was small, her attitude was mighty. “well babe, to be honest with you....” she offers a warm smile before her harsh reality check. “if you’re looking for male roommates, then this will do the trick.” she pauses for a moment as if she’s making sure she agrees with her own thought process. “but us women? we wouldn’t trust this shit if the pope himself endorsed it.” 

[poeticiism]

LOCATION: @ WOLFE’S DEN

the mist had settled low on the streets of nottingham. trudging through the wet grass, genevieve petrova made way to her toyota rav4 after a traumatic shift at the local hospital. her career as a nicu nurse proving hard on her mental these days. it was something ginnie anticipated with her line of work. she knew it would be troubling on her mind and spirit. she was a sensitive soul, and though she loved helping and saving lives, it was no secret that the job weighed heavily on her, affecting her everyday life, getting in the way of normal social development and yada yada that her therapist preached to deaf ears every thursday afternoon. she’d had a particularly hard day today, losing a baby that was being treated for the past four weeks. she’d been gaining strength and the odds were starting to turn in her favor until about three hours earlier. ginnie had decided to end her shift early, not really with approval, but at this point she didn’t care about the consequences of walking out. she’d lost a patient. surely her superiors would understand, right? she wouldn’t allow herself the room to even contemplate those thoughts. getting in her 2022 vehicle, she wasted no time pulling up to wolfe’s den. a spot she frequented when finding herself in emotional turmoil. the crowd was warm and friendly, and she’d made herself known as a regular. making her way through the busy night crowd, she sighed of relief when finding a seat at the bar next to someone she’d exchanged banter with a few times before. “i lost a baby tonight....at the hospital.” she awkwardly dumps onto the other person. “I just couldn’t go home right away.” @nottinghillstarters​

[lichtundschattens-deactivated20]

location: outside of the grind to: open @nottinghillstarters

"They say that pets look like their owners." Azucena wasn't trying to pick a conversation with anyone in particular. Lately, she felt the urge to get out of her comfort zone and start expanding on her friend groups again. This was always a hot topic at her job, and something that would typically make those associated with her patients giggle or at least crack a smile. Corazon heaved beside her, prompting Azucena to reach down and stroke the little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel's head. "Do you think you look like your pet?"

[poeticiism]

“I don’t actually have time for a pet.” ginnie states matter of factly. though she loved animals, her schedule at the hospital just didn’t allow for a pet at the moment. she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to take care of a simple beta fish at this point in her life. “but now that you mention it, i’m pretty sure I do resemble our family dachshund.” 

[infiinitys]

@nottinghillstarters

LOCATION: Portobello Green Market

"𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 my favorite places in Notting Hill.. did you find anything good?"

[poeticiism]

“this vintage phone is really giving me a vision for a photoshoot prop.”

[poeticiism]

urbnlgnds​:

location: club yoga

status: open! ( @nottinghillstarters​ )

“d’you know what they’re talking about right now?” silas muttered through the corner of their mouth, head turning to face the person beside them. “i lost them after ‘sun salutation’.”

“we’re now breathing through our heart center, silas, you’ve gotta keep up.” havana picks. “this is super important stuff, you need to pay attention.”

[poeticiism]

drcamland​:

location: the grind open starter @nottinghillstarters​ 

“Do you think it’s a better cliché to have a midlife crisis by getting a puppy instead of a new car or a girlfriend half my age?”

“a puppy sounds incredibly more responsible of a mid life crisis than the latter. less expensive too.”

[poeticiism]

CHYLER LEIGH. SHE + HER / have you ever heard of CONCRETE ANGEL by gareth emery well, it describes GENEVIVE PETROVA to a tee! the thirty year old, and NICU NURSE was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more anxious or more OPTIMISTIC instead? anyway, they remind me of hours spent in medical school digging her head into her textbooks, staying up all night to pass exams, the hustle and bustle of an emergency room on the daily, trying not to take home the emotional burden of her job, a long sleeked back chocolate ponytail as her signature look, falling asleep whenever she has the few seconds to spare, maybe you’ll bump into them soon!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: child abuse, death, abusive father, domestic violence, mention of a psychiatric hospital

she had a horrific childhood. her father was a sick and twisted son of a bitch and relentlessly abused her, her older sister katarina, and her mother. katarina, her older sister, was also her best friend growing up. the two were very close considering their circumstances at home. the two girls felt like that only had each other. and of course their mom too. 

they all kind of just survived the abuse until something was done about it. eventually the bruises and complaints caught up to them and there was just no more hiding what insidious nature lie behind their front door. 

her father fled, and her mother was sent to a psychiatric hospital, forcing cps to give her grandparents full custody of her and her sister until her mother was better again. 

the years of abuse at the hands of her own father really gave her a fighting spirit when it came to advocating for other victims of abuse. originally, her older sister katarina had really gone on in life to make something of herself. it inspired ginnie to see her work so hard and build something meaningful like the petrova foundation. katarina had dedicated her entire life to going to school for psychology and vowing to help victims of abuse just like them.

after becoming a well reputable psychologist, katarina eventually opened up her own psychiatric hospital that specialized in treating children with mental health issues. her main goal was to provide quality care compared to the declining reputation of psychiatic hospitals. they were known for their horrible treatment of their patients and the statistics that showed they weren’t as helpful as they seemed to be.

 katarina truly cared about her work but was still caught up in her own cycle of abuse. somehow, someway, ginnie’s older sister she had once looked up to with admiring eyes, had fallen victim to her own domestic violence relationship. repeating the vicious cycle that their mother and father introduced to them at such a young and fragile age. 

ginnie sniffed out the secret her sister was carrying only a few months into their relationship. one day, ginnie got a call she prayed she would never have to take. katarina had been killed by her abusive boyfriend, her best friend was gone. 

it was then that ginnie had a falling out with her mother. the two barely speak anymore. ginnie went to medical school and has never stopped for a moment to actually grieve. she swamps her schedules with never ending hospital shifts and sick babies. all of it a distraction so she doesn’t have to deal with the real pain of her sister’s passing. 

ginnie is terrified to ever date, she’s never had a proper boyfriend that lasted more than six months because as soon as it gets to the point where they want to get closer to her, she just can’t seem to let her guard down enough to let anybody in.