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visit-new-york · 6 months

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Exploring Brooklyn's Icons: A Guide to Empire Stores Dumbo and the Brooklyn Bridge

Brooklyn, New York, is a treasure trove of iconic landmarks and historical sites. Among these, Empire Stores Dumbo and the Brooklyn Bridge stand out as must-visit destinations. Whether you're a local or a tourist, here's everything you need to know about getting to these attractions, navigating the Brooklyn Bridge, and discovering the rich history that surrounds it.

How to get to Empire Stores Dumbo?

Empire Stores, located at 55 Water Street, Brooklyn, NY 11201, is easily accessible by various modes of transportation. If you're using public transit, take the subway to the High Street-Brooklyn Bridge station (A, C trains) and enjoy a picturesque stroll toward the East River. Alternatively, several buses serve the Dumbo area, providing convenient options. If you prefer driving, parking facilities are available in the vicinity.

Are there any restrictions for cyclists on the Brooklyn Bridge?

Cyclists are welcome on the Brooklyn Bridge, and there's a dedicated lane for them. However, it's important to be aware of any restrictions during special events or maintenance periods. Adhering to traffic rules and being mindful of pedestrian traffic ensures a safe and enjoyable ride across this historic bridge.

How many lanes does the Brooklyn Bridge have for vehicular traffic?

The Brooklyn Bridge boasts six lanes for vehicular traffic, with three lanes in each direction. The outer lanes accommodate regular traffic, while the inner lanes are reversible, changing direction based on the time of day to optimize traffic flow.

What is the current condition of the Brooklyn Bridge?

As of the latest available information, the Brooklyn Bridge is generally in good condition. Regular inspections and maintenance work are conducted to preserve its structural integrity. For the most up-to-date information, it's advisable to check with local authorities or official sources.

Are there any interesting events or stories related to the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge?

The construction of the Brooklyn Bridge, spanning from 1869 to 1883, is a tale of engineering marvels and human determination. Notably, Washington Roebling, the chief engineer, faced decompression sickness during construction. His wife, Emily Warren Roebling, played a pivotal role in overseeing the completion of the bridge, a testament to her resilience and dedication.

How many years did it take to build the Brooklyn Bridge?

The Brooklyn Bridge took a total of 14 years to build, showcasing the dedication and perseverance of the individuals involved in this historic project.

Has the Brooklyn Bridge ever undergone significant renovations?

Over the years, the Brooklyn Bridge has undergone significant renovations to ensure its longevity. Preservation efforts focus on maintaining its historic elements while incorporating modern engineering standards to meet safety requirements.

Are there any guided tours available for the Brooklyn Bridge?

Immerse yourself in the history and architecture of the Brooklyn Bridge by taking a guided tour. Several local operators offer insightful tours, providing a deeper understanding of the bridge's significance. Check with local tour providers or visitor centers for the latest information on available tours.

Can you see the Statue of Liberty from the Brooklyn Bridge?

While the Brooklyn Bridge offers breathtaking views of the Manhattan skyline, keen observers can catch glimpses of the Statue of Liberty from certain points along the bridge. The panoramic vista makes the bridge a unique vantage point for appreciating this iconic symbol.

Are there any special events or celebrations held on the Brooklyn Bridge?

The Brooklyn Bridge occasionally hosts special events, celebrations, and festivals. Fireworks displays, cultural events, and charity walks are just a few examples of the diverse activities that take place on or around the bridge. Stay updated on local event listings for information on upcoming activities.

In conclusion, exploring Empire Stores Dumbo and the Brooklyn Bridge is a journey through history and modernity. Whether you're fascinated by the engineering prowess of the bridge or captivated by the events surrounding its construction, Brooklyn's iconic landmarks promise an enriching experience for every visitor.

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free-my-mindd · 1 year

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Another apartment view from down under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass.

#nyc #nycsunset #downtown manhattan #newyorkcity #manhattan #city views #night view #citylights #buildings #apartmentview

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superhero--imagines · 2 years

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A/N: So I am weak, here is the first part of the Waking up in PJO Series, I drew inspiration from a lot of different series and I’ll credit them all at the end. I hope you enjoy this and if you want to be added to the tag list please drop a comment :)

* Your first thought when you wake up is:

* Oh geez, not again

* ‘What is this, the thirtieth world?’

* You’re starting to get tired of this

* To make matters worse you’re never the same age

* One day you’re nineteen, the next time you’re twelve, the time after you’re twenty-one —

* And this time you’re an infant, a handful of months old at most.

* You’re swaddled in a thick blanket, held against a woman’s pillowy chest.

* ‘What kind of backwater system am I going to have to fix this time.’ You wonder, bitterness ringing through your thoughts.

* You aren’t allowed to be bitter for long, the gentle sensation of a warm chest and familiar scent lull you back to sleep again.

* ‘I have an entire life in this body this time, I should do it right.’ You think

* You’re three years old the next time you’re able to process cognitive thoughts.

* ‘Well this hardly seems fair.’

* You look straight ahead, staring into the abyss, and your father looks back at you.

* He doesn’t look like your original dad, but that’s hardly surprising. You’ve been in a dozen or so worlds where your parents don’t look like your parents—

* ‘At least I always look like myself though.’

* This time your father is a younger man, in his early twenties, he has jet black hair that seems to stick in every direction, skin the color of pale moonlight, and heterochromic eyes; one amber and the other green, both remind you of swirling galaxies.

* But the most noteworthy thing about him is that he seems to be tinged in red. The hue saturates his knuckles, flushes across the bridge of his nose, and stains the whites of his eyes.

* ‘He doesn’t look angry though,’

* “Daddy what’s wrong?” You ask, your small hand resting on his face.

* ‘Just sad.’

* His large, calloused hand, covers your own.

* “Nothing baby, I’m just so happy you’re here.”

* You’re four when you realize you’re stuck in Percy Jackson

* Your teacher is crouched on the ground, her blue apron soiled with the playground dirt

* That much wouldn’t be all that surprising, the power of despair always stays with you regardless of what body you’re in, radiating from you like an aura to everyone around you if you let it.

* Even more unsurprising is that this small body can’t handle your emotions very well yet. Small outbursts are to be expected.

* What is surprising is the snake strangled in your small fist.

* ‘Normal four year olds can’t strangle snakes.’ You think numbly as your pre-school teacher fluctuates between hysterics and crippling despair.

* You calm yourself down enough after loosening your hold, soothing your teacher the best you can.

* “It’s okay see, we’re both okay.”

* You doubt this is some anime world where even children are overpowered and people seem to heal in a couple of minutes.

* And it doesn’t seem like an original world either, this is a very American landscape.

* ‘What city is this again?’

* New York, Manhattan to be exact

* Something about strangling a snake felt awfully familiar, not to mention that warm golden hue when you were a baby.

* Think about this objectively, your mom is not around, you’re strong but not anime or video game overpowered, and you’re in an American setting.

* You’re about to fall asleep for your afternoon nap when it hits you

* ‘Oh shit, I’m in Percy Jackson.’

* It seems unlikely, but wilder things have happened

* ‘Maybe it was only a matter of time. Still there’s only one way to confirm it.’

* “Hey Daddy,” your father glances at you from the rear view mirror in the car. “Why don’t I have a mommy?”

* You feel bad asking your father a question you know will bring him pain, especially when you see hurt flash in his eyes.

* Your father is a handsome man, well built with beautiful eyes, you wouldn’t be surprised if a goddess found him appealing.

* “Your mother went somewhere far away, somewhere you and I can’t follow for a long time.”

* On one hand he makes it sound like she passed away

* On the other hand this is a very vague statement, for all you know your mother is in Olympus or seducing her next victim.

* “What was she like?” Your legs swing underneath you.

* “Your mother was, is, the love of my life.” He reaffirms. “She brought warmth with her into every room she entered, and she was the kindest soul I ever encountered.”

* Even now he looks positively dazzled when he speaks about her.

* ‘So my mom is a goddess, great.’

* His description doesn’t help either, at best it’s a vague description and at worst they’re the words of an unreliable narrator.

* ‘So his love sickness aside, maybe my mom is a minor goddess like Hestia, or maybe Nike or Themis.’

* Though who knows, maybe his description’s completely off and your mom is someone like Athena or Artemis.

* Regardless of who your mom is,

* “Come on baby, I heard you had a bad day at preschool today, I’ll make you something yummy to make up for it.” Your father promises, holding you tenderly against his chest as you make your way up to your familiar Apartment in Manhattan, waving hello to the doorman of your building.

* You’re glad you have your dad

* He may not be a parent your recognize from a previous life, but the way he holds you so gently, the familiar scent that wafts over you — like spring and amber mixed together — has your eyes drooping close

* “I love you daddy.” You yawn against his neck

* “I love you too baby.”

* You’re seven years old when you meet the black dog for the first time.

* You’re walking home from elementary school, sighing as you cross the street.

* ‘I have to be more careful, Dad practically had a heart attack last night when he saw me reading the book about Greek mythology.’

* “W-why are you reading that book sweetie?”

* “The pictures looked pretty.”

* “W-w-well what about this one? Don’t you think these pictures are prettier?”

* You’re going to have to start handling your research with more tact.

* ‘I get about 30 minutes a day for silent reading, but if I choose a book about Greek mythology everyday my teacher will mention it to my dad, I’ll need to limit myself to one day a week.’

* You’re thinking of making a schedule of things to study every day so you might just appear like a very organized child, instead of the freak you are.

* That’s when you see it.

* On appearance alone it doesn’t seem like anything all that special, the dog is large, a black Great Dane with big brown eyes and a tail wagging a mile a minute.

* And in its mouth is a bright red ball.

* Despite yourself a smile twitches on your lips as you get closer, you’ve seen dog body language enough to know when an animal is uncomfortable

* “Hey boy, what are you doing out here all alone?” You hold out your hand expecting to receive an introspective sniff, but instead the dog placed his whole face on your hand.

* You laugh as you pat his head

* “Why’d your owner leave you alone like this?” You wonder aloud, the dog looks like a purebred, and he’s friendly and social too — it doesn’t appear to be abandonment, but he doesn’t have a leash, just a collar with blue gemstones embedded into luxurious leather.

* ‘Whoever’s dog this is, they must be rich.’

* Not that your father seemed to be hurting for money either considering he’s sending you to all the best schools in Manhattan

* The dog drops the ball into your hand when you still

* Does he want to play fetch?

* It’s only when you look down you see it’s not a ball at all.

* “A pomegranate?”

* Before you can think about what kind of person gives a dog a pomegranate to play with, the dog gives you one final lick before leaping away, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the street.

* “Well that was weird.”

* You meet her when you’re eight years old

* She’s adorned in a varsity jacket, a flip phone in one hand and a dog leash in the other

* The black dog from earlier wags it’s tail

* ‘So this is the bad owner.’

* She looks like a college student, maybe twenty at most. With jet black hair and bright green eyes.

* ‘She looks familiar’

* There’s a certain tint to her though, a gold tint that lingers on her skin, gold flecks in her eyes, a golden sheen to her hair, you don’t know what to make of it.

* “Hey kid, do you know me?”

* “Yeah you’re the lady I’m going to report to my teacher when I get to school.”

* The woman sputters with laughter, her hand covering her mouth as her dog shuffled towards you, pressing its nose against your hand. You pet instinctively.

* ‘You really deserve a better owner. How hard would it be to incapacitate this woman and steal her dog?’ You muse.

* “Looks like Cerb has taken a liking to you.” She states, the dogs practically curled around you it’s head in your small hands.

* “You named your dog Cerb? Like Cerberus?” You feel like the name fits a Rottweiler better than a soft hearted Great Dane.

* “I didn’t pick the name, I inherited him from a distant family member recently.” She shrugs, patting her side, the dog pouts but obediently returns to her side.

* “I’ll see you around kid.”

* ‘This is starting to get weird.’

* You wonder for a second if that was your mother but dispel the thought.

* ‘Dad could do better.’

* You stumble into adolescence without a hitch, running into the college student and her Greek mythology named dog.

* You learn her name is Maki and she’s a sophomore at a local university.

* “So are you in college?” You ask.

* “I guess you could say that, I’m getting a degree in architecture at NYU.” You nod.

* You mainly put up with her to pet her dog.

* And you continue your research into the gods, hoping you might find a clue about who your mother is.

* “They seem very interested in Mythology, they even have a schedule on what type to learn more about everyday, it’s still early but archeology may be a good field of study for them.” Your teacher tells your father during the semi-annual parent teacher conference.

* Your father can barely contain his joy, a wobbly smile over his mouth as he ruffles your hair.

* “They’ve always been fairly independent, but if there’s anything I can do to support them as a parent please let me know.”

* ‘I wonder what dad does to be able to afford all this.’

* It’s something you’ve never really thought of much until now, but the penthouse apartment in Manhattan, the elite private schools, even the designer clothes you wear — the money has to come from somewhere.

* ‘He does seem to work a lot.’

* Your dad is always there for you before school and after school, but you’ve seen him mulling over a stack of paperwork a handful of times when you woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, a heavy sigh heaving from his lips as he leaded through the documents.

* ‘Maybe he’s an executive and he just has really good boundaries.’ You think to yourself.

* You’re also growing fairly certain that your mother was a minor goddess, for one you don’t seem to have any special powers aside from your usual despair aura, and second…

* The monsters are few and far-between. There’s been the odd occasion naturally, a snake that tried to poison you, an Eagle that latched onto your arm and refused to let go, a man with only one eye that eyed you from outside the playground, but one look from you was enough to make them scamper away.

* ‘I must not be worth the trouble to them.’

* Besides it’s not like you need protecting, as long as you have your despair no monster on earth can harm you.

* As you walk home, slightly disappointed that Maki and her dog aren’t at the park today, you think maybe this is okay.

* You don’t need to know who your mother is, your blood is weak enough that you won’t need to go to camp half-blood, you can live a nice long life with your father.

* You smile at the doorman as you walk into the marble lobby of your apartment building.

* ‘Maybe this time there aren’t any problems I need to fix.’ You think as you step onto the elevator.

* ‘Maybe this time I can live a nice peaceful life with my super rich dad.’ You decide, tapping the key code into your door before turning the handle.

* You’re greeted with the usual sight of your father, but instead of his usual place on his favorite armchair, he’s seated on the sofa, his mouth stretched in a tense fine line.

* Across from him is a woman, if you had to describe her you’d say she resembled a peony. Everything about her felt like a blossoming flower, pink cheeks, perfectly well manicured pink fingernails. She has long brown hair the color of tree bark, and bright green eyes.

* She’s adorned in a white pantsuit, and stares at you with an amused smile twitching on her lips.

* “(Y/N), come sit by me very quickly.” Your fathers words are strained and tinged in urgency, the woman rolls her eyes.

* “Oh come now Zagreus, you think I would hurt my own grandchild?”

* “It’s never seemed to stop you before.” He grumbles.

* Your eyes flick from the woman to your father.

* The last puzzle piece fits into place.

* All this time you’ve been fixated on your mother, believing her to be of godly lineage.

* ‘But that’s Persephone, and if she’s my grandmother—‘

* ‘Then I’ve been looking at this wrong the whole time.’

* “It was just the one time Zagreus, and I already told you I don’t approve of Thanatos as a son in law, naturally I wouldn’t approve of their children either.”

* ‘Because that means my dad is Zagreus.’

* This entire time your godly parent has been right under your nose, a mere hallway across from you in your own home.

* “Well shit.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! I wanted to credit a few series that I drew a lot of inspiration from which include Hades, Circe by Madeline Miller, and Lore Olympus.

Also a shout out to the anon who guessed it below, hope it was still a surprise! As always if you want to be added to the tag list please COMMENT and I’ll add you until it’s full! 💖

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jadesenigma · 3 months

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View from Manhattan Bridge

Kodak Gold 200

#35mm #film photography #35mm photography #staybrokeshootfilm #filmisnotdead #filmwave #film #filmisalive #shootmorefilm

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chrisevansredbelt · 2 years

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Just a Stranger

pairing: mmmm like ceo!frank castle x stripper!reader

warning: no smut today i’m sorry but this is a cute little story starter no? suggestive themes, semi lap dance.

summary: your regular customer hasn’t visited in weeks. but he comes back with a proposition for you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

Sighing to yourself, you begin recounting your money, losing count after hearing the door to the locker rooms slam. Muttering the numbers under your breath, you just about finish your stack of dollar notes before getting tapped on the ass.

You would’ve clocked your fist straight into their face had you not heard their heels pattering throughout the room. Spinning around, you find your dear friend and colleague Natasha.

You smile up at her and before you can greet her, she speaks first. Resting her ass against the counter, she smiles tellingly down at you in your seat, “You’ve got a visitor.”

You immediately knew what that meant. Hell, every girl that worked here knew what that meant and you wouldn’t be surprised if a few regular customers even knew as well.

Stuffing all your money into the safety of your money bag and tying it shut, you quickly fix up your hair and makeup. Natasha just snorts at you, leaving you to it as she goes back out onto the main stage.

You practically reapplied your whole makeup, having worked your ass off on the poles last and bar tonight, you were dishevelled. And it was no help that it was some guys 21st birthday and he’d rounded all his friends and dads to come join him in his celebration. As good as the money was, you hate 21st birthday celebrations. They’re just a bunch of horny college kids doing sport and their dads are no better (just hotter).

Slipping your heels back on, you don’t even care for the ache of your feet. Before you leave, you grab the key from the hook above the door and practically skip your way over to the extra extra private room.

The private rooms for private dances are all on the bottom floor. However, this special room that you need to hike the spiral staircase to get to, is a much more private room for much more private activities.

It’s not as in use as you may think. The girls here aren’t just willingly offering themselves to anybody. And no amount of money could get a girl up there. No, these rooms are for special customers only. Special customers as in, the men that work under the big man that owns the club, Tony Stark.

He has heaps of men, of all shapes and sizes, and we all love them. They’re basically our colleagues when you think about it, all working under Tony- sometimes on top- depends how he’s feeling.

The upstairs isn’t just a bedroom either, it’s a whole apartment, if you will. Tony throws a few parties there every now and again or if a girl has troubles with her housing then it’s a free bed and breakfast. Tony takes care of us.

You keen in excitement as you reach the top of the stairs, shoving the key into the lock and opening the door.

It’s eerily quiet, but you smell him. You could’ve dropped to your knees, it’s been so long.

You make your way through the usually crowded and dark loft. It was hard to recognise this place after seeing what it looked like during one of Tony’s more intense parties. Strobe lights and filled with smoke. When it wasn’t occupied, it had a warm feeling. Homey, even. The lights were a warm tone, the decor was so inviting and the view of New York from across the manhattan bridge was just a dream.

The click of your heels was made silent by the fluffy carpet and you’re glad, hoping to catch him by surprise because you always loved the way he lit up whenever he saw you.

As you exit the foyer, into the main living area, you spot the back of him sitting comfortably on one of the couches, drink in hand and blunt in the other as he looks out at the view.

Sneaking up behind him, you cover his eyes softly with your hands and feel him jump under your skin.

“C’mon now.” Frank snorts, placing his drink down and his blunt in his mouth to softly grasp your hands in his and remove them from his eyes to see you.

He smiles wider, looking over you, subtly admiring you. It’s been so long.

With both your hands in his grasp, he easily pulls you over the couch and into his lap.

“Hey, stranger.” You sigh as you get comfortable, hands wrapping around behind his neck and playing with the soft strands of hair that tickle your wrist.

As he goes back to retrieve his drink from the table, he scoffs and removed the joint from his mouth, “Stranger?” He asks, blowing the smoke away from your face.

You shrug, sliding your hands down his chest, “You haven’t visited in like a month.” You pout before looking up at him, “You find a replacement for me?”

“Never.” He barely hesitates. Deep down you know it’s true, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cross your mind in his absence.

Leaning in to, what Frank would think, to kiss his neck, you whisper in his ear, “Liar.” You sneer, “I can smell her on you.”

Your plans to make Frank freak out and beg on his knees for your forgiveness and to tell you you’re the only one he wants fails as he just scoffs. Pulling your face out of his neck, he’s glad to finally see your face again and brings his hand up to give you a pull of his cigarette, “You’re so dramatic.” You wrap your lips around the end of the joint and inhale, “You should try your luck in acting.”

“Mmm, what kind?” You ask suggestively, pulling away and blowing out the smoke, “You could be my colleague.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He shakes his head with a laugh.

“You’re telling me Punisher Porn isn’t what the people want?” You ask jokingly, but also not. You wouldn’t mind doing porn if it were with Frank, “It even sounds cool.”

Totally ignoring your last comment, he just places his blunt in the ash tray on the coffee table and his finished drink beside it as he places his hands over your hips, giving you his full, undivided attention, “Did you miss me?” He asks and you don’t answer straight away. Instead you just shrug, avoiding eye contact as you play with the fabric of his shirt, “C’mon, I missed you.” He nudges your chin up with his rough finger so that you’re forced to look up at him, your lips inches apart, “My favourite girl.”

Just as he leans in you cover his mouth with your hand, “No kissing.” You remind him.

Regular customers aren’t even supposed to touch you, let alone kiss you. And if that’s how you need to treat Frank in order to get him to realise your worth, then so be it.

“Don’t do that to me.” He whines, kissing your hand instead as he pulls it off his mouth and over his chest, “C’mon, you really think I was with another woman?” You don’t answer, instead just shrug yet again, “If I whipped out my balls right now, I promise you they’d be blue.”

“Then where were you?” You ask, starting to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He doesn’t answer straight away. Rather, looks at you for a moment probably to decide whether to lie or to tell the truth… and from his answer, you assume it’s the truth.

“Vegas.” He says cautiously and you roll your eyes, “It was a business trip!”

“I don’t even take private dances anymore for anyone but you and this is how you repay me?” Though it’s sort of said in a joking matter, it can’t be anywhere far from the truth. You truthfully have not taken anymore customers for private dances all because of Frank. He didn’t want to ‘share’ you. Well, you didn’t want to share him either.

“Baby, what do I have to do to convince you that you’re the only one I care about?” He finally pleads, fingers softly digging into your ass, “What time do you finish?”

You’re unable to contain the small smile that plays at your lips, “I’m already off.”

“Come back to my place then.” He asks and for the first time that night, he has you stunned. He’s never asked you to come back to his place before. He’s joked about it- you both have- but it never seemed like it would ever happen, “We can get a pizza or something and I’ll fuck you on every surface in the house.”

There was something very intimate about it all- being invited to Franks house. Sure, you’ve fucked before, but it was always up here in the club. Being fucked in his house where you would probably stay the night and share the same bed until the morning… that you would be more than happy doing every day.

“What d’ya say?”

“I say…” You start off, all blushy and smiley now, “We better hurry otherwise we’ll miss the pizza.”

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i’m still working on the bj gif fic don’t worry

#jon bernthal #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #the punisher #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher smut

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dcbbw · 6 months

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Sunday Sneak Peek: The "Bueller, Bueller?" Edition

It feels as if it has been FOREVER since I have written and/or posted anything of substance or significance. I have so many unfinished WIPs, storylines, and ideas on my laptop and trapped in my brain, but my focus, attention, and energies are all being directed towards IRL events and situations at the moment, and I honestly have no idea when I will have the time and motivation to devote to writing the way I once did.

However, I managed to get some words to keyboard and wanted to share (and gauge interest in) a couple of UnRomance WIPs I’m toying with. Both are follow-ups that NO ONE asked for:

One is for the original ending where Riley actually calls “Stop!” and leaves Liam. The second is a follow-up for the fandom ending where Liam and Riley are married and have Baby Eleanor, and a son on the way.

Not sure if anyone would want to see these come to fruition given I have so many other WIPs folks have expressed interest in (and your patience is both admirable and appreciated beyond measure!), but it’s all I got today.

As usual, everything is in a state of rough draft, and final version may vary. They are both below the cut, and I hope you enjoy them!

Pairing: Liam x Riley (it ain't Cordonia!)

Rating: M for Mature

Single

November (Liam)

It is the Wednesday before Thanksgiving; I have broccoli, cheese, and shredded chicken bisque simmering in the slow cooker that I’ll pair with curried rice and buttermilk biscuits. Eventually. I place a cut-crystal glass filled with cognac on the kitchen counter so I can give the soup a quick stir. Upon hearing my doorbell chime, I glance briefly at the wall clock; my company is early, but not by much.

I open the front door, a practiced smile on my face. “Thank you for meeting me here.”

Elizabeth gives a quick grin as she steps inside. “I was glad to hear from you,” she responds as I gently spin her around to remove a stylish, if dated, gray wool coat from her shoulders. I hang her coat and purse on the coatrack and guide her down the hall.

Her blue eyes take in the pictures hanging on the hallway walls, and when I lead her to the living room, her expression is one of wonder as she sees the enviable view through the wall of windows. She looks at me briefly over her shoulder before looking back out at the East River, Manhattan, and the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Is this your place, John?”

I shake my head slightly. “It belongs to a friend.”

I gesture to the sofa. “Have a seat, I’ll be with you momentarily. Drink?”

“Wine, please.”

I notice that she is sitting as if posing for a portrait. “Relax,” I instruct in a gentle tone. “It’s the same arrangement as usual, just a different location. Please, make yourself at home.”

I return with the requested drink, and my eyes take in her appearance. Elizabeth looks as If she’s dressed for either a funeral or a job interview: gray polyester blouse, black pencil skirt with a modest split in the back; black pantyhose and black pumps complete the ensemble.

I settle next to her on the sofa; she sips at the vino slowly, almost cautiously. She smacks her red-tinted lips a little too loudly as she nods approvingly. “That’s good wine,” she declares.

As she sips more, my fingertips brush loose tendrils of blonde strands away from her forehead before trailing down her cheekbone and jawline. She looks at me, her eyes filled with question and desire.

My fingers wrap around her wrist, and I softly tug at it to lead her hand to my still-clothed manhood. Elizabeth seductively licks her lower lip, the tip of her tongue a pale pink. She places her goblet on one of the coffee table’s coasters before flattening her palm against me.

She presses her other palm against my shirt-covered chest while her lips ghost kisses along the side of my neck. Her fingertips walk down my chest, towards my torso. I push her away slightly.

“Stand up and strip for me,” I instruct in a husky tone. “It would mean a lot to me if you were to do that.”

She hesitates for a moment before slowly nodding in agreement.

“Good,” I say as I rise; I need my drink from the kitchen. “Be right back. Stand in front of the windows. I’ll give you $100 for each piece of clothing you remove but keep your heels on.”

When I return, I have my glass and the bottle of brandy; I settle back on the sofa, pour myself a refill, and get ready to watch the show.

Domestic

My eyes open slowly, greeted by complete darkness. The blackout curtains covering the bedroom windows effectively block any and all illumination. However, they do not muffle the sound of heavy rain falling upon the city. The remnants of a tropical storm moved in overnight and are expected to last through the day.

Riley is asleep; her breathing is deep and even, occasionally interrupted by a soft snore. Her back is to me, plump ass cheeks pressing against my naked skin. My arms tighten around her waist, and her scent, commingled with yesterday’s fragrances waft elusively past my nostrils. I toss my leg over her thigh as I nuzzle her neck and breathe deeply. The faint smells of fruity shampoo, sleep, powder, and Oscar de la Renta perfume are a heady mixture before sunrise.

The side of my left thumb flicks against one of her nipples; I feel the ridged flesh grow erect under my ministrations. My right index finger plays with her clit before my dick slides into her waiting entrance. After a few strokes, she moans my name in a voice heavy with slumber. Her hips undulate as we rock back and forth together slowly, quietly; I bite my tongue as I fist her hair. My strokes become faster and rougher, her moans grow louder. I clap my palm against her mouth and hiss in her ear to be quiet.

The children are sleeping.

It doesn’t take long for her orgasm to wash over my dick, or my seed to fill her. I pull out of her and let my head fall back onto my pillows. After my breathing slows, I sit up and stifle a loud yawn as my arms stretch towards the ceiling. I make my way to the master bathroom where the wall clock informs me that it’s two hours until sunrise.

I empty my bladder, wash my hands, and pull on my pajama bottoms before donning an ankle-length black silk robe. I run a comb hastily through my tousled locks and shove my feet into bedroom slippers before leaving the room.

My glance falls onto Riley, who is asleep again. She doesn’t stir as I exit the room to make my rounds and check on my family.

I take care of them.

Seven years of marriage, and I have no complaints. Riley has been a good wife; she is still submissive to only me, still in need of and seeking my guidance, and still aggravatingly disobedient.

She loves me, she loves our children more. Riley still works, but not for Independence Publishing and Lynn. Lynn sold the business to focus on her family when her husband’s business became hugely successful. My wife now works for a freelance art gallery in Soho called Standalone; she’s the Procurement and Assets Manager.

I’ve been a good husband: I’m attentive. I’ve never cheated on her, never hit her in anger or abuse, home every night. I am a good provider, both giving her and maintaining a lifestyle she has grown quite accustomed to. She can quit her job anytime she wants and not have a financial care in the world.

We share equally in parenting our children, and I am a present and engaged father. A housekeeper comes in three times a week to help us manage the cleaning and upkeep of our home. I do all the cooking, although Riley has finally learned how to cook scrambled eggs, spinach, and how not to burn toast.

She’s so proud of herself.

Tagging (let me know if you want on or off):

@jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations

#dcbbw writes #wips #liam x riley #unromance au #writer on tumblr

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innervoiceartblog · 6 months

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“Poe Walking on the High Bridge”

Ca. 1900

"Edgar Allan Poe was an Aqueduct walker. Poe readers who still own a copy of his Tales in the Great Illustrated Classics edition from 1952 may remember the dramatic image of a melancholy Poe walking in the snow in his billowing thick cloak, a long straight avenue receding behind him. The landscape on either side, with its barren trees, drops away to nothing in the distance. That is because Poe is crossing the High Bridge on this frosty walk, with the span over the river behind him. High Bridge, of course, continued the route of the Old Croton Aqueduct from the Bronx across the Harlem River into Manhattan. Construction of the bridge began in 1837, and it was completed in 1848. Poe was then a Bronx resident, living in a tiny cottage on Kingsbridge Road, in rural Fordham Village, just east of the Aqueduct. The Bridge opened on the Fourth of July the year before Poe's death in Baltimore, at the age of forty, in mysterious circumstances. The picture, which is also on view at Poe Cottage, in the Bronx, is titled, Poe Walking on the High Bridge. It appeared around 1900 as part of a series of illustrations by Bernard Jacob Rosenmeyer (b. 1870, New York City - d. 1943, Yonkers)

The artist was well-known in his day as a book and magazine illustrator and a genre and portrait painter. When I first saw this picture, and learned of its significance for Aqueduct walkers, I thought that Poe's story, "The Imp of the Perverse," must surely have been inspired in part by Poe's crossings of the High Bridge, which, at more than 100 feet above the water, deserves the name."

- Dale Ramsey

#Poe #edgar allan poe #Aqueduct Walker

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tsarisfanfiction · 7 days

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The View

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family/Angst Characters: Will, Apollo Rachel's room had a wonderful view over the East River. Unfortunately, that included a certain bridge. TOApril day 19 - Haunted. This one is a case of me looking at a map, doing some mental gymnastics with what we know of the location of Brooklyn House and Rachel's house, and realising that when Will looked out of Rachel's window, he would've been able to see the Williamsburg Bridge. Cue, well. This.

Will didn’t notice it, to start with. Even with his dad standing behind him, the lure of sunlight was strong – so sue him, he enjoyed soaking up the sunlight, even if it wasn’t his dad’s because his dad was currently mortal, and even if he didn’t, he wasn’t stupid. Nico wanted to go down to the Trogs and the prophecy all but said they were going to do that, and they were going to need light.

Will wasn’t looking forwards to glowing in front of his dad in a pale imitation of what Apollo could do himself (or in a reminder of what Apollo currently couldn’t do himself), but he knew that if Nico got his way, Will was going to end up doing exactly that, and Will hadn’t yet worked out if there was a correlation between his glowing and his preference for sun lounging, but he wasn’t going to risk that there was one and he might run out of light in the dark if he didn’t get enough sun first.

That wasn’t to say the view out of Rachel’s window wasn’t impressive in its own right, either. The river lazily wound its way between them, in Brooklyn, and Manhattan. In the distance, the Empire State Building – Olympus – loomed amongst the other high-rise buildings that made up New York’s best-known island.

Will hadn’t been into Manhattan since The War. When he had left camp, barring his shadow travel adventures with Nico it had always been to visit the fringes of New York, and he hadn’t done that often, either. Camp was comfortable, mostly safe (but not entirely, Will would never be able to forget the times it wasn’t, when people got hurt or died), and was far better suited to his needs than the mortal world.

It didn’t take much effort to look away from the tall, historic building that formed their access to Olympus; its king had cast out his father, and the last time Will had been there, it had been filled with destruction, rubble, and dead and dying bodies. He was on a quest right now, and Olympus had nothing to do with it.

His eyes wandered instead to the river, water green and dirty looking. Whatever Percy had done nearly two years ago to clean them up hadn’t lasted. Of course it hadn’t, this was New York. Rachel’s bedroom window had a wonderful view of it, though, and even the green and murky water didn’t look horrendous while the sunlight glinted off of it, giving the colour some depth.

Then he saw the bridge.

He didn’t recognise it, to start with. Not from this angle, not in the bright sunshine. He might not have realised it at all if not for the scaffolding and cranes still perched on it despite the fact it looked intact again. Signals that the bridge had been broken, might be passable by traffic again but was still in need of a few more repairs before it was considered whole again.

Williamsburg Bridge.

Will dragged his eyes away from it immediately, because they were on a quest, his dad had enough to worry about without Will going into a panic over a bridge of all things. Camp was in danger, New York was in danger, Apollo was in danger, and now was not the time to let things get to him when they weren’t even related.

His heart thudded loudly in his ears, his chest felt tight, but not today. Will couldn’t break down now, not today. Not until this was all over.

It didn’t escape his notice that it was the same as back then, when Michael fell, when his siblings were blown off and he didn’t know who was alive and who was dead but Percy grabbed him because they did know that Annabeth was dying and Will was her only chance at survival. When Will had to shove down his own disbelief, grief, fear, anger- everything except hope and determination.

He’d have his breakdown later, and Will knew it wasn’t healthy to bottle everything up but needs must, his older siblings had never let breakdowns happen when they were needed and he wasn’t about to let Lee, Michael, or the others down by breaking when he was needed, either.

He turned his face towards the sun, again, let the warmth bathe his face, calm his heart, release his chest. It didn’t seem to matter that Apollo wasn’t behind the reins of the chariot, because the trick still worked as well as it had done in Manhattan, against Gaia, when a half-dead mortal Apollo had collapsed into camp.

That was another thing Will hated, that the sun didn’t seem to change when Apollo wasn’t there, even though it felt that it ought to, while it was without a god, but that was one more thing on the list of things to be repressed and ignored until later, when Apollo was a god again and everything was right with the world.

When Nico would drag him off, away from everyone else, and insist he break, because Nico understood why Will pushed it all down, but still hated it, and wouldn’t let it go on for any longer than it had to.

With everyone distracted behind him – someone was rummaging around noisily with tin cans, and he bet that was Meg, while Rachel talked prophecy paintings with Nico and his dad – he had the luxury of time, a few heartbeats to get himself under control unobserved, and he took them, closing his eyes to feel warmth permeate through his being until it thrummed beneath his skin, a hollow comfort that he wouldn’t be failing them any time soon. His light would not falter when Nico called for it.

Seven seconds. He gave himself seven seconds, then opened his eyes again, carefully not letting his vision focus on the Empire State Building or the bridge. Instead, it caught on the large trailers sat outside Rachel’s house, where various noses protruded from the side.

Huh, Rachel had mentioned cows.

Behind him, he heard Rachel quip at Nico about his aesthetic, and decided that was as good a time as any to rejoin the conversation before his boyfriend started to get snarky at their best source of information. It wasn’t that the two of them didn’t get on, they did, but…

He rapped his knuckles against the glass. “Are those the cattle?”

#trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfiction #toapril #toapril 2024 #tsari writes fanfiction #will solace #pjo apollo #michael yew #rachel elizabeth dare #nico di angelo #meg mccaffrey

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jack-kellys · 10 months

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omg omg javid (im gunning for hurt davey (typical) but either is fine)

"Don't look at them, look at me."

“How long did you think you could hide that?”

- @we-are-inevitable ✨

give me a prompt and i'll write something!!

hiya jac <3 this is a bit long winded but I got there

~~~

Davey had gone back to school. And that was fine.

Jack felt that ‘fine’ was a good word for it. He sold on the weekends still, and so did Les sometimes. Jack would see them after school during the week to catch up, bring them to the lodge or around the city to see their other friends, since Jack certainly wasn’t Davey’s only friend and neither was he Les’s sole role model (for better or for worse). The best and worst trips were to Brooklyn, when they’d get to spend all that time walking and talking and laughing, absorbed in each other, only for Spot to just as easily enrapture both Jacobs brothers the moment she came into view on the other side of the bridge. Jack was shiny and flimsy compared to the layers of rock the two had to dig through to learn new things about Spot, he knew that, so he’d add his two cents and wait around for the walk back to Manhattan.

When they did go over to Spot’s, she’d give Jack this look. She’d tilt her head, narrow her eyes, asking something that Jack couldn’t decode. Race would do it too, which was mildly infuriating, but when Crutchie ever did it, it made Jack feel like a fool, like he was missing something that everyone else knew.

And Davey would simply be continuing on with whatever he was talking about, never commenting or noticing.

It was Sunday, and Davey would be back at school tomorrow.

“It’s strange when I talk about working in class,” Davey was saying. Jack had convinced him to grab dinner with him, and then convinced him to let Jack walk him home. “They, uh.. well, they admire it, with a kind of distance.”

“That good or bad?” Jack frowned. “A step up or down from how it’d been?”

Davey shrugged, hazel gaze set ahead of them and shaded by the sun at their backs.

“Straddling some kind of middle,” was his answer. “It’s nicer that people know my name, you know, but it ain’t as nice when I don’t feel like a student to them.”

Jack must’ve been wearing some kind of confused pout, since Davey only rolled his eyes and continued with a small smile.

“It’s- they don’t think I should be there,” he murmured. “Like they think that since I ‘got work over the summer’, I should only be workin’ now. Not really a kid to them, I’m this employed worker doin’ jobs on the weekends.”

“Ain’t that the better thing to be?” Jack asked. Davey scoffed. “No, really, ain’t it? More independent, more- more like you make your own decisions. You don’t gotta work on the weekends, you just wanna, for your family. That’s better than doing nothing.”

“Not to your average schooled seventeen year old,” Davey chuckled. “Kids either look up to it and isolate me as- as an adult, kind of, or look down on it and think I should be removed.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. Davey was busying himself every single day of the week, doing homework and teaching through Hebrew lessons to Les and selling tons more papers than he used to. He was taking care of his family, doing all he could for them while still finding time for his friends. And Davey was still smart and on top of it despite it all. Maybe picking one of the two, working or schooling, would make Davey’s life easier, but Davey didn’t want that, he was dedicated to everything he loved. In Jack’s mind, a kid would have to be some kind of idiot not to admire the hell out of David Jacobs. Jack admired him, he had since- for…a while now, he supposed.

“Well,” Jack muttered, instead of all that was going through his head, “that’s real stupid of ‘em, man.”

Davey laughed, nose crinkling, and Jack’s insides felt as if they were tinged with rose.

“Yeah, the day I say that out loud is the day I skip class,” Davey said, “forcibly.”

“Oh, you can take ‘em,” Jack brushed off, nudging his friend’s shoulder with his own. “Buncha schoolboys? Davey.”

“For your information, I am a schoolboy,” Davey shrugged matter-of-factly. “And if I do, as you’re saying, ‘take them’, that’s another way for me to skip class forcibly. Education like this in Manhattan’s too new, I mean- if they think a kid’s a source of trouble, they’re out. Plenty’ll want to take my place.”

“Then maybe you can point ‘em out to me and I can…meet them?” Jack smiled.

“No, Jack.” Davey shook his head, glancing over at him with an amused glimmer to his gaze. “I’m quite alright, thank you.”

“Have it your way.”

They nearly stumbled upon Davey’s neighborhood, Jack so wrapped up in conversation he’d hardly noticed they had to split off. He leaned back against the wall of the building.

“Sure we can’t hang a little longer?” Jack tried, grinning. “Ain’t like you’re gonna miss a meal or anything, we can just walk around the block…”

Davey’s raised eyebrows stopped him from continuing, letting out a small chuckle instead.

“Right,” Jack sighed. Davey was rather strict about his personal curfew, less out of fear and more in the name of dedication. “When’ll I see you next, you got- you got anything goin’ on after classes in a couple days?”

“Couple days sounds good, Jackie,” Davey hummed. Perfect.

“You gonna miss me?” Jack teased.

And Davey fixed him with this look.

The taller boy tilted his head, narrowed his shimmery gaze, and smiled like the sun.

“I’ll miss you, Jackie,” he said. “See you then.”

‘Then’ felt like an annoyingly long time to Jack, which was new. Initially when Davey first went back to school, it was seamless– Jack hung out more with his own boys, began prep for the fall temperatures, started up on drafting cartoons based on the political jokes he was sent. Sometimes Katherine would come by and they’d come up with their own based on her wider knowledge of that world. Enough weeks of it went by, though, and Jack found himself wanting to talk to someone who wasn’t there, stifling certain jokes or conversations for days before bursting it all out at Davey. It was a relief when Davey did the same, and they’d be in their own world for a few sacred hours.

These days, the hours in between felt stretched, Jack felt stretched, and the only solution to put him back together was getting his time with Davey.

This was perhaps the one time he wished ‘then’ hadn’t been sooner than they’d planned.

Jack had made every effort to sell all his papers before three in the afternoon, since school let out around 2:15. Sometimes he caught Davey leaving the building, and he was able to walk him home. He hung by the school, gaze busy with scanning for cops or friends or staring adults. His heart started to sink as the school seemed to empty out, though- he probably missed him, or maybe he’d left through a different door.

Wasn’t like Jack had anything to do until the evening edition came out.

Carefully, he strolled around the corner, biting his lip and for once trying to make himself look a bit smaller. He wasn’t as comfortable in this part of this neighborhood; didn’t feel like his turf, his home. His palms were itching with the feeling of it, but his turn to head back was halted with a sound he knew much too well.

A pained grunt followed what had to be a fist to the face, and against his better judgment, Jack swiftly followed it.

“Davey!”

Two boys crowded Jack’s friend, whose nose was bleeding and one of his eyes half shut, and who was not fighting back. The boys booked it around the school when they saw Jack, and he immediately sprang into action to pursue them. No one was going to smack Davey around and just get away with it.

“Jack. Don’t.”

Jack’s footsteps faltered, stopping and kneeling in front of Davey, who’d sunk to the ground.

“Hey, it’s okay, Dee, I’ll be right back,” Jack said quickly, about to stand. A hand fisting into his collar tugged him back.

“Don’t look at them,” Davey urged softly, and Jack’s eyes found his, “just at me. Just stay with me, Jack.”

“But Davey, they can’t just-”

“They didn’t. I let them,” Davey said. It only made Jack’s blood burn hotter.

“Why?” he demanded. “Davey, you don’t let people do that to you, I know you don’t.”

Davey wiped under his nose, frowning. Without a thought, Jack removed his kerchief from around his neck, handing it to the other to clean himself off.

“I didn’t want to 'forcibly skip class',” he said, giving Jack a hollow half-smile before wiping blood from his lip. “I knew those boys. Their word matters more than mine, and if I fought back…” Davey shook his head, watching his feet with his gaze set in stone. “School’s important to me, Jack. I ain’t gonna do anything to compromise my chances here, if I can help it.”

Jack’s eyebrows raised, lips parting slightly. Impressed, as usual, but this surpassed the normal level of admiration- he wasn’t sure what to call it.

“Wow,” was all he could say, laughing slightly. “You got a backbone of steel, Jacobs. Christ.”

Davey laughed too, curling in on himself a bit as he hunched with a cough, and Jack found his hands hovering above Davey’s shoulders. Twitching slightly as he wracked his brain for the appropriate method of comfort.

His brain didn’t move fast enough, and now Davey was looking at him.

Head tilted, eyes narrowed- narrowed as they could be without closing. Gaze amused. God dammit.

“What?” Jack huffed out. “I’m so damn sick of that look, Dee, I get it from everyone, like I’m the butt of some joke.”

Davey laughed again. Maybe he was.

“Jackie, isn’t it obvious?”

He felt his face heat up, because no, clearly, it wasn’t.

“I don’t like when you make me feel stupid, Dave,” Jack mumbled. “Just get to it, will you?”

Davey’s eyes scanned their surroundings, and Jack lifted his own gaze to follow it before he was tugged forward and into Davey’s lips.

Jack’s eyes closed, and he saw every instance he’d received some look from his friends.

Maybe he had been listening too intently in Brooklyn, enraptured with Davey’s words, his voice, his mouth, which had made Spot stare at him. Maybe he’d laughed too hard at one of Davey’s comebacks during a game of cards, and Racer had given him a sly smirk for that. And maybe talking to Crutchie about Davey was more at length than he’d thought, since C had always given him that damned smug look once Jack was done…gushing, probably.

Oh, Christ. It was obvious, wasn’t it.

Jack pulled back slowly, hand finding Davey’s vest as he opened his eyes again. Davey was smiling, eyes narrowed, and Jack smiled too.

“You like me too, right?” Jack teased, and finally, it was Davey’s turn to blush.

“Let’s just get to the lodge,” he said instead, pushing himself up with Jack’s help. Davey leaned into him, and Jack shifted his arm comfortably around Davey’s waist as they started their way back. He glanced down at Jack’s hand before their gazes met.

They shared a look, and smiled.

#IDK IDK :( they r very nice #thanks jac!! love me some javeyy #newsies #newsies fic #newsies fanfic #javey #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #and i did hurt davey !! i normally do not so <3 #fizz answers #fizz writes #fizz freaks #TIL that manhattan didnt have public schools until like 1897 or something #****public school for high school i mean!!!#bc it was legit a diff city than brooklyn of which had public schools like for a decade longer & separately #newsies fics

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israelcastillophoto · 3 months

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Caged….

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mtlibrary · 3 months

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This 19th-century artwork shows New York City and the city's docks. This view looks north-east up the East River from the bay of New York Harbour, USA. Manhattan (with Broadway) is at the left, while the boroughs of Queens and Brooklyn on Long Island can be seen at the right. In the lower right the 11-pointed bastion of Fort Wood on the future Liberty Island, site of the Statute of Liberty is shown. Part of Ellis Island is at bottom left. Clinton Castle (round offshore fort, lower left) is not yet surrounded by Battery Park, and bridges are yet to be built over the East River. This lithograph comes from volume 6 (1878) of the 9-volume 'The Trial at Bar of Sir Roger C. D. Tichborne' (1875-1880).

#library #law library #mtlibrary #rare books #history #books & libraries #rarebook #libraries #new york #new york city #manhattan #brooklyn #liberty island

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visit-new-york · 5 months

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What are the key attractions within Brooklyn Bridge Park?

Nestled along the East River with the iconic Brooklyn Bridge as its backdrop, Brooklyn Bridge Park stands as a testament to urban revitalization and green space innovation. This sprawling oasis, spanning 85 acres along the Brooklyn waterfront, offers a harmonious blend of recreational spaces, natural beauty, and stunning views of the Manhattan skyline. As visitors stroll through its well-manicured lawns and engaging attractions, they are treated to an array of experiences that make Brooklyn Bridge Park a must-visit destination. Let's delve into the key attractions that contribute to the allure of this urban gem.

Brooklyn Bridge Promenade:

The park's crowning jewel, the Brooklyn Bridge Promenade, provides an unrivaled vantage point to marvel at the majesty of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan skyline. As day turns to night, the twinkling city lights create a breathtaking panorama. The promenade offers a serene escape from the city buzz, making it a favorite spot for joggers, cyclists, and leisurely strollers alike.

Pier 1: Harbor View Lawn:

Pier 1 welcomes visitors with the expansive Harbor View Lawn, a lush green space that hosts a variety of events, from outdoor movie nights to yoga classes. The unobstructed views of the Statue of Liberty and the Manhattan skyline make it an ideal spot for picnics, relaxation, and taking in the maritime activity on the river.

Pier 2: Sports and Recreation Hub:

For the sports enthusiasts, Pier 2 is a haven of activity. Basketball and handball courts, roller skating rinks, and even a shuffleboard court cater to diverse interests. Whether you're a seasoned athlete or just looking to enjoy a friendly game, Pier 2 is the place to break a sweat with the Manhattan skyline as your backdrop.

Jane's Carousel:

Nestled in a glass pavilion at the edge of the park, Jane's Carousel is a vintage treasure that adds a touch of nostalgia to Brooklyn Bridge Park. Dating back to 1922, this meticulously restored carousel offers enchanting rides for visitors of all ages. The combination of the beautifully carved horses and the sparkling views of the East River creates a magical experience.

Pier 6: Playgrounds and Picnic Areas:

Pier 6 is a family-friendly haven featuring playgrounds designed to spark the imagination of young adventurers. Water features, climbing structures, and ample seating make this area a hotspot for families. The nearby picnic areas are perfect for a leisurely lunch, providing a chance to recharge amid the park's natural beauty.

Environmental Education Center:

For those seeking a deeper understanding of the local ecosystem, the Environmental Education Center on Pier 1 offers interactive exhibits and educational programs. Visitors can learn about the diverse plant and animal life thriving in and around the park, fostering a sense of appreciation for the environment.

Conclusion:

Brooklyn Bridge Park is a testament to the transformative power of urban planning and community engagement. Its diverse attractions cater to a wide range of interests, making it a destination that resonates with both locals and tourists. As you explore the park's various offerings, you'll find a harmonious blend of recreation, culture, and natural beauty, making Brooklyn Bridge Park a must-visit destination for anyone seeking an enriching and picturesque urban escape.

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jobean12-blog · 2 years

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Hey my lovely💖🙈Its me again, hope this is fine. I couldn't other as think of this after our small chat and me building the small lady liberty 🤣🤭 Could i ask for a fanfic where tfatws! Bucky give us a tour around Brooklyn and/or to Liberty island? I mean...who to ask than you, since you know Brooklyn as your backpocket😉🤭💕and Bucky of course too. A nice stroll through his neighbourhood ....old and new one. Hope Yori won't harass him🤣🙈

Just a pitch for you😘🥰 I wish you a nice day!!

Brooklyn by Love

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,043

Summary: You and Bucky spend the day/night enjoying Brooklyn and his favorite spots.

Author's Note: Hi my sweet Kim! @harlekin6 This is such a lovely and soft request and thank you so much for it and for being so patient with me! I hope you enjoy it! I really loved writing about my beloved home! I've included pictures of all the places they went just to help along. I've been to all these places and they are magical! Hugs and love my friend! 💕Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by my love @firefly-graphics thank you sweets🥰 PS I found these images on google, none are mine.

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff, lots of kisses, Bucky is the best :)

The light breeze blows, rustling the branches of the trees and allowing the bright rays of sun to shine and peek through the flowers. You shield your eyes by burying your face in Bucky’s neck and giggling when he throws his leg over yours and squeezes you tightly.

“Doll, look!” he says, gently pulling your face away.

You glance up just in time to see the flower blossoms floating down from the cherry trees and littering the green grass like pink stars. Several land on you and Bucky and you pick one up, trying to tuck it behind his ear.

“How do I look?” he asks with a soft smile.

“Perfect,” you answer before kissing him.

“It’s beautiful here,” you whisper against his lips, snuggling closer.

“Almost as beautiful as you,” he says softly.

You lower your lashes and smile sweetly¸ giving him a soft kiss and a whispered thanks.

He sighs and throws one arm behind his head, the other wrapping you up and keeping you close.

“I used to come here a lot,” he says, “when I needed time to just…be. It’s peaceful.”

“It is,” you whisper, turning in his arms. “You don’t come as much anymore.”

It isn’t really a question, more your thought spoken aloud.

“I’m happy,” he states, tucking his fingers under your chin and lifting your lips to his. “I found my peace.”

As you walk under the canopy of trees the flowers continue to drift down on the breeze and the air carries an aromatic array of fragrances from the gardens. He lifts your joined hands above his head and twirls you around then pulls you against his chest and dips you, his kiss as romantic as the notion.

“Ready for some food?” he asks when he has you upright once again.

“Definitely,” you breathe out, still swooning from his kiss.

When you exit the Botanic Gardens Bucky’s bike is waiting at the curb. He helps you onto the back before throwing one long leg over the seat and revving the engine. You wrap your arms around his middle and press yourself close before he takes off.

He starts to slow down as you approach the Brooklyn Bridge and pulls over to tuck his bike away.

“I know just the place to eat but ya have to walk the bridge with me first,” he smiles.

He helps you off his bike and tucks you into his side.

You walk slowly, taking in all the sites and sounds of the surrounding city. The views of lower Manhattan are breathtaking and Bucky stops to take silly pictures every chance he gets, a permanent smile on his face.

“You know this is only the second time I’ve done this,” you admit, swinging your joined hands between you. “It’s so much better this time.”

“Everything is better with you,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss.

As you get closer to the Manhattan side you can see that the sun has dipped lower in the sky and the soft orange color lights up the silhouettes of the buildings in front as it reflects off the water. The statue of liberty is painted black against the background of light and the last of the clouds are scattered like white diamonds across the darkening sky.

You stop walking and pull Bucky to the railing.

“Let’s watch the sunset.”

He stands behind you, cradling you against his chest and circling his arms around you. The water is calm and the smell of the salt air blows delicately along your skin. The colors of the sunset are bright and spread low across the skyline, outlining it in beautiful hues of pink and orange.

The lights of the buildings blink on one by one, lighting up the city like gems strewn across a dark blanket.

You’re quiet and comfortable in his arms, reluctant to leave but your stomach says otherwise.

The River Café is already getting busy when you arrive but Bucky has reserved a table in the corner where you’re tucked away with just him and the most incredible view of the lower Manhattan skyline.

“This is my first time here,” he tells you. “So, let’s try everything.”

He pats his stomach and throws you a wink

“You got it Buck! I’m hungry! And I definitely want dessert.”

After a delicious dinner he persuades you to skip dessert, explaining that he has something better planned.

The ride to Coney Island is alongside the water and Bucky takes his time coasting down the Belt Parkway and enjoying the ocean breeze. You’re snuggled up behind him, warm in his leather jacket and resting your cheek on his back to watch the moonlight dance across the water as you whizz by.

Before you arrive you can already see the lights of the Wonder Wheel high in the sky and hear the roar of the Cyclone. You give Bucky an excited squeeze and he revs the engine and picks up speed, making you squeal.

“BUCKY! CONEY ISLAND!”

He can barely help you off the bike as you hop up and down.

“I knew you would love it,” he whispers, dipping his head to kiss you quiet.

You’re still seated on his bike and he moves between your legs, sliding his hand up your back and grabbing the nape of your neck to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Your fingers curl into the soft material of his shirt and you moan into his mouth, completely lost in the moment.

You only break apart because of the loud boom of the fireworks behind you, the night sky lit up in a rainbow of colors.

“Just in time,” he smiles and lifts you off his bike.

He grabs his bookbag from the saddlebag and takes your hand. You jog to the Luna Park gate and he buys the tickets, throwing his arm around your shoulders and ushering you through.

“Let’s enjoy the fireworks then we can go on any rides ya want doll and I’ll get ya Coney cone!”

“Can we ride the Ferris Wheel? And will you win me a teddy bear and let’s get one of those giant sundaes!”

“We can do anything ya want doll face and of course I will,” he promises with a kiss.

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @hiddles-and-skittles @hiddles-rose @goldylions @jhangelface0523 @lookiamtrying @loricamebackyetagain @loki-laufeyson-1054 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @rebel-stardust @turbolisedcomet @seitmai @justile @breakablebarnes @weekendgothgirl @bb-skyrunner

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #brooklyn ny

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tinkabelle24 · 1 month

Text

To Build a Home

Chapter 14: Limbo

TW! Assault (physical) attempt, alcohol abuse.

Masterlist / Chapter 13

---

It was roughly eight miles from his spot at Highland Park to the Lair, just below Chinatown; Raph was at top speed the entire way.

Even when his lungs started burning and heart felt ready to explode, he kept going. The river provided much needed relief as he bypassed Williamsburg Bridge into Manhattan.

When he finally arrived, he found her with Leo at the kitchen table. She looked small in her chair, face deliberately obscured from view. He knew immediately that she was hiding something.

After what felt like an eternity of coaxing, she finally lifted her tearful gaze to his. "I fucked up, Raph," she murmured. "I'm so sorry..."

Raph despised every moment of it, but it needed to be done. He needed her to understand just how terrified he was for her.

He finally released her, leaning back into his chair with a stony expression. "Is it working?" He asked.

Val blinked. "I-Is what working...?"

"The phone I gave ya." The terrapin gestured to her purse, sitting at her feet. "Is it working?"

"O-of course," she answered quietly, still confused. "Raph, I don't under-"

He shot forward suddenly, causing Val to jerk back. "Then why didn't you use it?" He demanded. "It ain't an accessory, Valerie."

At that, the brunette shot him a dangerous look. "Excuse me?!" She promptly rose from her chair. He followed. She jabbed a finger in his direction. "Do NOT patronise me!"

Raph blinked, unsure what to make of this newfound side to her. He'd glimpsed it a handful of times over the months. Tonight though, it was like looking into a mirror.

"Well- fuck, Valerie!" He spluttered, gesturing wide. "I gave it to you for this EXACT reason. Why didn't you use it?! Explain it to me! Make it make sense!"

They must've been pretty loud as Leo and Donnie suddenly came barrelling out of the lab.

Great, spectators...

"I didn't feel like I could-"

Raph couldn't help but laugh. Just, fucking- WOW...

"That's bullshit and you know it! You coulda been raped! You coulda been killed! Why would you willingly do something so fucking stupid?!"

Leo attempted intervening. "That's uncalled for, Raph-!"

"No, he's right," Val interjected. "It was stupid, and I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted was to add unnecessary drama to your lives, but I've gone and done it anyway..." A tear escaped her swollen, bloodshot eyes as she slowly shook her head. "...I-I can't do this, Raph."

The colour immediately drained from Raph's face. She doesn't mean...?

"V-Val..." He murmured, reaching for her. She stepped away and he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

The terrapin's hand limply returned to his side. He swallowed hard, forcing the wretched tears back down. He refused to let his brothers see him cry.

"So, what ya said this mornin', about givin' us a shot... Was that all bullshit?"

Val's eyes grew wide. "R-Raph-"

"-If you knew ya couldn't do this then why didn't you stop me?! Why'd you kiss me back?! Why'd we go back to your apartment?! You've made me look like a fucking fool, thinkin' we had a chance-"

"Because I love you, okay?!"

Those words hit him like a tonne of bricks. Suddenly, he could no longer feel the ground beneath him, and he grasped the nearest piece of furniture to keep from collapsing.

She said it...

She fucking said it!

She loves me!

Me!

With everything else going on, he couldn't identify whether he wanted to sing, throw up, bawl his eyes out, or all three at once.

"I screwed up, I know that. When I promised to keep you guys a secret, I wasn't expecting to... I could do it, back then, when I barely knew you - I can't now. It's too complicated... I-I'm sorry."

So, this was it? Was she seriously ending this before it ever really began?

He was now leaning more toward throwing up...

He caught her sharing a look with Leo, and something inside him snapped.

You...

Raph growled as he fixated on his brother, who'd yet to notice.

You did this.

He clenched his fists, trembling with fury.

You're the reason!

He blinked and had already covered several feet. He heard Val scream for him to stop, but he couldn't. He was no longer in control. Only when she leapt in front of him did he finally come to, skidding to a halt just inches from her face.

The terror in her eyes will haunt him forever.

"Leave him alone!" She cried as Donnie yanked her between himself and Leo.

"Stand down!" His younger brother snarled, pushing him back as far as his arm would allow. They glared at one another for a few moments, before the red-banded terrapin finally shifted focus to his eldest brother.

Leo didn't return the hostility. There was pain in his eyes - guilt. Rarely had he expressed this emotion in front of his brothers - only Splinter.

Too late, brother - the damage's already done.

Raph couldn't stand around any longer. He needed out. He needed space. More severely, he needed the pain to stop.

He left.

---

After dressing Val's hand, Leo reluctantly dropped her off at her apartment, before joining Mikey and Casey in the search for Raph. He and Donnie urged her to stay, citing a potential concussion. They also didn't want her alone tonight, given everything that's gone down.

Honestly? That was what she'd rather be right now - alone; to use her own shower, change out of her ratty clothes, and (try to) sleep in her own bed.

She also had this nagging feeling...

Check the roof.

It could quite possibly be her rattled brain screwing with her emotions, but it also mightn't be. If he was in fact up there, she couldn't just leave him. She wouldn't.

So, she checked the roof.

The motion-sensitive light was already on when Val gingerly pushed the door open; it usually didn't turn on until one was a few feet out onto the roof. So far, so good.

"Raph...?" She called, hoping a familiar voice would prevent him from taking off.

The brunette carefully scanned her surroundings, gaze falling on the weather worn stack of pallets he jumped out from that fateful night. She frowned as her thoughts immediately shifted to the ‘what-ifs’; specifically, what would my life be like, had I not met him?

She’d like to think she’d still be on the straight and narrow; still taking the necessary steps toward her GED so she could finally apply for that EMT course. She’d still have the strength to go no-contact with her mother, whilst maintaining a positive relationship with her siblings. She'd still have her hobbies and be working to better herself physically. She'd probably even have a cat.

Knowing what she does now, her life wouldn't feel complete, even with all that. She pitied her hypothetical self; she'd be going about her life, completely unaware her missing piece was a red mask-wearing, Sai-wielding, 6-foot talking turtle man.

She wasn't being hyperbolic when she shouted those words. No. She meant them with every fibre of her being. He came into her life when she needed it the most. He slowly chipped away at her defences, providing a safe space to truly be herself. He shared her sarcasm and chaotic sense of humour; their ridiculous antics often getting them into trouble.

She never was one to test boundaries; she had to be the 'good' girl, always. But she very quickly realised she'd do anything to see that man smile and hear that gorgeous laugh.

It broke her heart doing this to him, but she could no longer cope with all the secrets. She was prepared to ask for what she needed, but that was before putting herself in danger to avoid calling for help.

She didn't feel deserving of their trust, after that.

A gasp escaped her when she heard a sniffle. She hurried toward its origin, rounding the pallets until she reached a red and black tartan blanket sprawled out on the concrete. She found Raph sitting atop it, nursing a near-empty bottle of rum.

He slowly turned his gaze toward her, and her heart sank. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot - he'd been crying.

"There you are," she breathed.

"Here I am..." the terrapin's speech was slurred. "You found me."

"You're drunk."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious..."

"How much of that have you had, tonight?"

Please don't tell me you downed it all in one sitting...

"I think I started... hmm... 'round here?" He pointed near the halfway mark. So, about ten ounces of straight liquor... She did not envy his liver.

"There's like a mouthful left." She tried keeping her tone neutral; it was pointless arguing with a drunkard.

"Yep."

"Right, I'm cutting you off."

Raph didn't protest when she took the bottle. After screwing the lid back on and setting it down, she offered him her good hand. "C'mon, we're going downstairs."

The terrapin frowned. "You ain't gonna try to seduce me again, are ya?"

Ouch.

"Nope," she bit out, struggling to mask the hurt in her voice. She beckoned him once more. He grabbed the pallet stack, instead.

Stubborn pain in the...!

She watched as he shakily pulled himself to his feet. The moment he was upright, his eyes glazed over and he fell forward.

"Whoa, hey!" Val rushed to steady him; he immediately shrugged her off.

"I'm fine!" He snapped, bracing himself against the stack. "I just need a minute..." He squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the swaying to stop. Once he'd finally stabilised himself, he slowly opened them again.

"Okay, I'll jump down first, then you follow."

"I ain't an invalid, Valerie. I can get down myself."

"I've no doubt you can; I just wanna make sure you don't go flying off the platform."

Raph harrumphed as they approached the ledge of the building. Val leaned forward slightly to locate the fire escape, and the terrapin grabbed her arm instinctively. Startled, she whipped her head around.

"You okay? Do you need to sit down?"

"No, I just..." He released her. "Sorry. Go on."

The brunette nodded then proceeded climbing over the concrete barricade, before carefully easing herself down onto the platform.

"Alright, slow and-"

Raph was already halfway down by the time she turned around. He landed hard on his feet, stumbling forward as he struggled to stand. Thankfully, he caught himself before he could bump her into the railing.

"Smooth," the brunette muttered, rolling her eyes. She ducked under his arm to reach her apartment window, prying it open. Taking his shoulder, she gently guided him inside.

"Will ya stop fussin'-"

"Less talk, more walk, mister. In ya go... That's it."

Raph's gaze lingered over her bed as he shuffled toward the table, slumping into the nearest chair. After shutting the window and drawing the curtains, Val made her way into the kitchen to pour them both a glass of water.

"Here, this'll help."

The terrapin groaned softly as he lifted his head from the table. "Hm...? Oh... thanks." He hauled himself upright and reached for the glass... then his arm abruptly went slack.

Val's eyes darted to his face; his head was tilted back, lids closed and chest rising and falling erratically. Shit. She lunged for the trash can; just in time, too.

"That's it, get it all out." She rubbed the back of his neck soothingly as he proceeded emptying the contents of his stomach into the can. Once he'd finished, she led him to the bed and laid him down.

"Thank you..." He murmured as she pulled the quilt up over his shoulders.

At that, she gave a small smile. "You're welcome. Now, rest." As she stepped away to retrieve his water and a bucket (just in case), he mumbled the words that would make her heart stop.

"I love you..."

Val froze. Once she finally picked her jaw off the floor, she shakily turned to him. "What...?"

No response. He was out to it.

She blinked. Did I just...? He couldn't have possibly...

Forget the shower - get your hallucinating ass to bed.

But first-

[Hey Leo. Just wanted to let you know I've found Raph. He's safe. He's asleep in my bed.]

While she waited for a reply, Val decided to change. It no longer felt right to undress in front of Raph, so she grabbed her pyjamas and padded into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Her shirt was halfway over her head when her phone chimed.

[Hey, thank you. We're coming now. Also, what are you still doing up? It's almost 5!]

[I'm going to bed right after this, I promise. And I think it'd be best to just leave him here; he's not really fit for travel at the moment.]

[You know that if he stays, he won't be able to leave until the evening. Are you okay with that?]

It'll be awkward as hell, but we'll manage.

[I know, and it'll be fine.]

[Alright, then. We'll talk later. Bed.]

[Yes, mom.]

Val stared at the terrapin bear-hugging her pillow, unsure how to proceed. Again, it didn't feel right. She’d just taken what could've been a beautiful relationship and dashed it to pieces; she didn’t want to risk exacerbating things by sharing a bed with him.

She decided to give sleeping on the floor a try.

After prying the pillow from Raph’s vice-like grip, Val tugged the fluffy blanket from the bed-end then laid them both on the floor, beside the bed. The carpet itched and pushed on her tender ribs and spine. She tried lying on the blanket, which was a little better, but quickly grew cold. She threw on a hoodie and sweatpants, then tried again.

The sun was peeking over the horizon by the time exhaustion finally took her.

When her eyes creaked open a few hours later, she was lying on the bed with Raph snuggled against her back, arm curled around her waist. Too tired to move or protest, she drifted off once more.

---

Masterlist / Chapter 15

@android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @miss-andromeda

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #oc val scott #tmnt 2007 #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph x oc #to build a home #raph x oc #tmnt fanfic #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt 07 #tmnt oc #tbah #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello

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