#Brooklyn Bridge Instagrams Captions

[bestlaptopsventure]

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[turtle-steverogers]

i love the idea of steve being a total grandpa/ghost on social media by choice. he understands it easily and behind the scenes, he doomscrolls like anyone else. but after his PR team forced him to get instagram to “humanize” him and “bolster his public image”, he decided to do as little as possible out of spite.

he has maybe 10 posts total, none of which are of him. there’s a couple of bucky’s silhouette in front of the brooklyn bridge and by prospect park, and one or two of alpine and a few leaves he liked because of their funky shape. none of the posts have captions and they’re all clearly done on a whim with at least four months between each post.

somehow, though, he has the second most followers in the world and his posts each garner AT LEAST 4 million likes.

and, much to their annoyance, he somehow has bucky and tony beat by a couple million, despite them both making efforts to be something like influencers on social media for their own image reasons

[musicarenagh]

From the Vault: Ari Joshua’s Post-9/11 Tribute 'Tagine' Ari Joshua’s latest release, “Tagine,” catapults me back to the era of self- and societal brainstorming in the early 2000s. This is an unheard previously track that was cut at Wombat Studios, Brooklyn, with guest appearances from Marco Benevento on the organ and Joe Russo on the drums. Combined, they produce a mood that is somber and foggy, yet expressive of something profound and truly powerful. The name ‘Tagine’ is derived from a Moroccan restaurant in New York city in which Benevento started weekly sessions attracting talented players. You can see what close friends are like in the trio; they grasped the experience of those intense sessions. Joshua’s guitar is dark yet complex and perfectly synchronized with Benevento’s organ notes and Russo’s stomping on drums. It goes beyond a simple musical creation as a record of emotions that New York felt in the years following the September 11 tragedy. Joshua tells me the harrowing experience of having to drive across the Brooklyn Bridge with gears and burdened by sad news to Tagine under more security than usual. It brings an additional layer of meaning to the track – a sense that enriches the experience of listening. [caption id="attachment_56545" align="alignnone" width="600"] It goes beyond a simple musical creation as a record of emotions that New York felt in the years following the September 11 tragedy.[/caption] The name ‘Tagine’ is a reference to an African cooking pot, but the music it contains is progressive and psychedelic fusion with touches of Coltrane and Davis. The ideas of the band are experimented here, but at the same time, make the song timeless yet new. It is the way in which one can tell where they are and what a specific time period is all about simply by listening. The song “Tagine” is one that fans of Ari Joshua, a jazz fusion artist, ought to listen to. It depicts the young budding talent and the nascent works of Joshua, Benevento and Russo who later on became critically acclaimed artists. Given that this one is the first song to appear from this particular session, there is hope for more discoveries from Joshua’s collection of songs. Having a good listen is within everyone’s reach since “Tagine” is available on all streaming platforms out there. Listen Tagine below  https://youtu.be/shPOoETRHQk Follow Ari Joshua on Facebook Twitter Spotify Bandcamp Youtube Instagram Soundcloud

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

When We Went From Friends to This - a. beauvillier

One day late, but here it is! I’ve been studying for the LSAT, but finally took it today, so I’ll have some more time to be writing more regularly now. Title is from Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings. I loved getting to write this, so please please let me know what you think, my inbox is always open! Reading the tags is one of my favorite things to do, and reblogs help me know people are liking my work.

word count: 7.7k+

September 18 (sat)

Astride Leclair was the kind of person you always wanted on your side. She’d drop anything for a friend, always be the first to reach out, and would never give up on something — or someone — without a fight. She was also incredibly stubborn. Astride had also always had a penchant for adventure, which is how she found herself in a new job 600 miles and one international border from her hometown. And she hated asking for help, it really didn’t matter the circumstance. Which is how she found herself alone, trying to heft an armchair up the stairs of her new apartment building after being very rudely informed by the width of the elevator door that it wasn’t going to fit. 

The lump sum her firm gave her for relocation was enough to cover a fair amount of the furniture for her new place and she tried to bring as much as she could on the drive down, but it wasn’t like she was about to rent a U-Haul and there was only so much a Honda Civic could hold. And Astride was still her father’s daughter, still would rather step on a rusty nail than pay Ikea for assembly, so by God she was going to do it herself. And “doing it herself” apparently meant dragging an 80 pound box up three flights of stairs in 90º heat in September, when New York City seemed to have not quite yet gotten the memo that the rest of the Northern Hemisphere was now in fall. 

Astride finally managed to get the chair in the door, propping the door open with one of her moving boxes, unceremoniously pulling the box through the entryway as she scooted backwards into the living room. The 600 square foot expanse of her apartment was covered in boxes, more boxes, and for good measure, extra boxes. There were moving boxes, furniture boxes, shoeboxes filled with anything except for actual shoes. There was her guitar leaning against the microwave, three suitcases worth of clothes in the barely-assembled bedroom, and her dog in a crate in the corner, who had started to whine. 

“I know, baby, I’ll get you out soon,” Astride said, shooting a sympathetic glance towards the beagle mix. She had adopted Poutine a little over a year ago, soon after starting her first job out of university. It was never a question whether or not she would make the trip with Astride, and thankfully it was much easier than she anticipated to find a dog-friendly apartment in Brooklyn. It wasn’t too long a walk to Prospect Park, a little under a mile, and she was looking forward to getting out with Poutine later in the day. If, that was, she actually finished unpacking enough boxes to function like a normal human being. She had picked up her mattress-in-a-box earlier in the day, but it was still sitting in the corner of her bedroom and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to a night on the hardwood floor. 

---

Three hours later, Astride had finally gotten all of the boxes out of her car and began to make decent headway on assembling the chair, finally having let Poutine out of her crate. The beagle trotted around the apartment, sniffing the baseboards, boxes, and single bag of groceries Astride had picked up from Whole Foods earlier in the day. The rest of her Ikea order was coming the next day, the actual bedframe and couch along with a couple of other larger furniture pieces that she had had to leave in Montréal. Whatever she couldn’t order online she’d find at a thrift store. 

Astride looked tiredly over at the kitchen. She really wasn’t in the mood to cook, and was in even less of a mood to dig through all the boxes until she finally found her set of pots and pans. She really should have taken her mom’s advice and labeled everything, but Astride was stubborn as a mule, and once she was stuck in her ways, there was precious little anyone could do to convince her otherwise. Pulling out her phone, she navigated to her Uber Eats, feeling a tiny pang in her heart as she switched her location to New York. Not the language, though. Astride was so hungry that she literally clicked on whatever place could get there the fastest, which ended up being a Chinese place a mile or so away. After placing her order — she got an extra box of chow mein so she wouldn’t have to deal with breakfast the next day — she settled back into the hair, the only fully-assembled piece of furniture in the whole apartment. Her finger hovered over her Instagram for a moment before she clicked on it, liking a few photos before going to post one of her own. It was a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge as she crossed it that morning, Poutine’s head lolling out the front window. One tap and one caption later, it was posted. 

---

Anthony flopped onto his bed, his duffel landing with a satisfying thump on the floor beside him. Training camp had just ended, and while he’d certainly been keeping up on his workouts over the summer, the hours upon hours of skating had nevertheless made him more than a little sore. He grabbed his phone, opening up Instagram and scrolling through the new posts, only half paying attention. Astride’s new photo caught his eye.

Sometimes, needing a change means a new haircut. Sometimes, it means a new country. Very excited to start this next chapter in my life. Salut, New York! Anthony quickly clicked onto her profile page and read her bio. International economics analyst. Eating my way through the world one pancake at a time. BCom McGill. MTL-NYC. He read the last line over and over again. MTL-NYC. He swiped back to the photo; she had tagged herself in Brooklyn. Brooklyn. She was less than an hour away, not even thirty if the traffic wasn’t bad. But she hadn’t told him, she hadn’t said anything. Anthony felt a pang in his heart. Astride knew who he played for — obviously — and she knew that of course he’d want to see her any time they were even remotely in the same place. She knew that. Right? 

He spent the next twenty minutes typing out a message to her. Then deleting it. Then retyping it. Then continuing the type-delete-retype cycle until his head was spinning. This was his best friend. Why was he so nervous to talk to her? Because she was his best friend, and as much as he hated to admit it, he really wasn’t sure where they stood. He hadn’t been sure for a long time. Hey Asty! He internally cringed at himself at the use of her old nickname. I saw you moved to New York, that’s amazing! I’m over on Long Island, so I’d love to catch up with you for coffee or something when you get a chance. It’s been too long :) 

It might have been a little petty — scratch that, it definitely was petty — but Astride didn’t respond to his text that night. She didn’t have read receipts on, thank God, but it sat in her messages, without response, like something she was too scared to confront. And she didn’t even know why. Okay, fine, she knew exactly why. She had moved and suddenly they were in the same city for the first time since they were kids and he was, had been, her best friend, but why now of all times? It’s not like he was never in Montréal during the year, or like they couldn’t have committed to a weekly FaceTime or something, or at least texted more than once a month. He could have done something. And that something, that lack of a something, was what kept her from responding until the next morning, tapping out a text as she halfheartedly made her way through a bowl of oatmeal. Hi, Tito, just saw your text! Lie. I did, an opportunity for a transfer came up and I decided to take it. I figured you were pretty close by, so it would be great to catch up. I don’t start at the office for a week, if you’re free any time between now and then. That much was true. She wasn’t stupid, she knew the Islanders played on, well, Long Island, and as much as she wanted to still hold a grudge against him, her heart ached at the prospect of finally being able to see him again. 

Anthony responded almost instantly, Astride having just closed the door to the dishwasher — a luxury in New York, she was told — before seeing her phone light up with the telltale bubble. I’d love to, we just finished up training camp so I’m more or less free aside from practices. A second later. Is brunch still your favorite meal?

Astride laughed. It didn’t surprise her that he remembered, but it was still touching to see him say something about it. It is.

How about Tuesday? I’ll send you the directions. It’s this little café in Flatbush, I think you’ll love it. 

I’m counting on it. 

September 26 (sun)

Brunch had turned into dinner, which had turned into going to a Broadway show — Anthony had insisted the moment she told him she’d never been — which had turned into him coming over for Saturday night movies, an old habit of the pair’s from their days back in Québec. Which had turned into two movies and two bottles of wine, which had turned into Tito sleeping over on the couch instead of driving the thirty-odd minutes back to his apartment. Poutine sniffed him curiously, nudging one hand with her head. Astride stifled a giggle, opening the door to the balcony. “He’s very sleepy, Poutine. It’s not good manners to wake up your guests.”

“Even when they fall asleep on your couch and steal all your blankets?” Anthony said sleepily from behind. 

Astride wheeled around, greeted by a half-awake Anthony Beauvillier, who was indeed bundled in all of the blankets she owned that weren’t actively on her bed. “Tito! Oh my God, you scared me. How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, about as well as can be expected.” He tapped his phone, cursing when he realized it was dead. “Do you know what time it is?”

She glanced down at her watch. “8:52, why?”

Anthony jumped up, throwing his shirt back on and grabbing his still-dead phone. “I’m supposed to meet Mat for breakfast at 9:30, and the place is,” he paused for a moment, running through the grid system in his head, “probably half an hour away? I’m never the late one, can’t break that streak now.” 

“Gotcha.”

He grabbed his keys, looking back at her. “Why don’t you come? You’re already dressed, and you remember Mat, right?”

She wiggled her hand. “Kind of?” She crossed the room, letting Poutine back in. “You only want me for my charged phone and navigation system.”

“You got me,” he said, laughing. 

---

“You named your dog Poutine?” Mat snickered, taking a bite of his eggs. 

“Would you rather I named him Tim Horton?” Astride deadpanned. “He’s a good Canadian boy with a good Canadian mom. He needed a good Canadian name.” 

Mat raised his coffee mug, tilting it over towards her. “Touché.”

Anthony waved his hand in front of Mat’s face, trying to catch his attention from where he was utterly preoccupied with destroying his sourdough toast. “Hey, Mat.”

“Mmm?” He glanced up. 

“Did you know that Astride lives right by Barclays? Like, right by Barclays?” 

His eyebrows rose. “No way?” Astride nodded. “That’s a great area, would have been awesome if you were here a couple of years ago. Short walk to the games.”

“That’s what I told her yesterday,” Tito responded. 

---

“You’re kidding,” Anthony said, looking up at her building, then across the street to Barclays, then back to Astride, one hand tangling through his hair. “We used to play right across from here.” 

Astride laughed. “I thought about that,” she said. “You know I still watched your games, right? Even after we fell out of touch?” Anthony shook his head. “You were still someone I cared about, are still someone I care about, even when we only talked a few times a year.” 

Beau stood there, unable to formulate a complete sentence. As far as he knew, the last Islanders game she watched had been the 2016 opener, his NHL debut and her first year at McGill. Why did he assume that? Why did he assume the worst? You can care about people even when they’re not in your life anymore. And sometimes, if you get really, really lucky, they come back. 

October 9 (sat) 

“Ebs is having a barbeque thing over at his house this weekend, just stuff to celebrate the beginning of the season if you wanted to come. No pressure if you’ve got plans already, though,” Anthony said over the FaceTime. 

Astride nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds great, I’d love to come! Just let me know when to show up and what to bring, and I’ll be there.”

 It was almost a fifty-minute drive for Astride from her apartment in Prospect Heights to the house in Garden City, but there wasn’t too much traffic and besides, she had always liked driving. So she set off in her Civic, plugged her music in, and headed down 495. Anthony met her outside of the house, greeting her with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek as he cocked his head towards the backyard. “Party’s this way. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” 

Astride dutifully followed, trying not to let her nerves take hold of her. Everyone might have already been Beau’s friends, but she didn’t know them, or the dynamic of everyone’s relationships, or really, what to expect at all. 

He noticed her apprehension, stopping her with a feather-light touch on her arm just before walking through the back gate. “Hey, Asty. What is it?” 

She let out a little huff, still upset that he could read her like a book even after all this time. “I’m just worried that I’ll feel like I’m intruding on everything, like everyone already has their friends and a group and everything, and here comes some random Québécoise who’s a friend of Tito’s—” 

He laughed, turning her around to face him. “Astride, they’re going to love you. As long as you’re the hilarious, witty, caring person I know you are, they’re going to love you as much as I do, and you’re going to fit in just fine. Do you trust me?” 

She gave a tiny nod. “Yeah.” 

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “Good, now come back, everyone’s waiting.” 

They walked through the gate, greeted by a crowd of smiling faces as Anthony brought her around to everyone to make their rounds. There was Anders, he was the captain, and his wife. There was Jordan and Lauren, and she already knew Mat, and JGP — who was excited to have another person to speak French to — and a dozen or so others, along with their respective partners and children. Anthony had gone over to talk to Mat and some of the other players, while Astride had wandered over to the drinks table. Some of the other women were chatting nearby; one of them caught Astride’s eye and waved her over to join them. 

“Beau didn’t tell us he was bringing anyone!” one of the women said, pulling her over to the group with a bright smile and handing her a glass of sangria. 

“Mhm,” she replied, taking a sip of the drink. “I’m new to the city, obviously, so I think he wanted me to have some people I know outside of just work.” 

They all nodded. “How long have you two been together, though?” another asked. “I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone, did you?” She looked around at the others, who shook their heads as Astride’s eyes bulged. 

“Together? No, no, we’re not together. We’ve been best friends for ages, but,” she shook her head. 

“Could have fooled me,” Lauren said with the smallest of winks. 

Astride suddenly became very interested in the floating berries in her sangria. She looked over at Anthony, who was throwing his head back, laughing at something one of the rookies had said, and smiled. But Lauren’s words kept lingering in the back of her mind. Could have fooled me. Okay, it wasn’t like it was the first time they had been mistaken for a couple; whenever she’d make the trip up to Shawingan to visit him when he was in the QMJHL, more than once she’d have to explain to his teammates that no, she wasn’t Beau’s girlfriend, they were just best friends who had known each other forever. Just best friends. 

Astride had always equated her lingering feelings for Anthony to the nostalgia of a childhood crush, the safety and security that came with remembering something from a time that seemed so simple and so easy. But childhood crushes didn’t last for ten years. And that wasn’t something she hadn’t wanted to come to terms with, something she’d been putting off for years if she was being honest with herself. 

“You didn’t tell me Astride was coming,” Mat commented, seeing her mid-laugh in conversation with the other girls. 

Anthony nodded. “Yeah. She didn’t have any plans for the weekend and I thought it would be nice to introduce her to everyone. I remember how shitty it felt to be in a new city away from your family, don’t want her to be lonely. Plus, I genuinely think she’ll fit in great with everyone.” 

Mat hummed his agreement. “She’s changed since Switzerland, don’t you think?” he asked appreciatively, referring to over five years ago, the last time he had seen her in person.

“Don’t even think about it,” Beau mumbled to Mat, seeing his eyebrows go so far up they were hidden in his hairline. 

“I see a hot girl, I appreciate a hot girl,” Mat shrugged. “But don’t worry, I won’t try anything. I know she’s off-limits.” 

The rest of the afternoon passed quicker than she would have thought, and after a few hours and more good conversations, it was time for Astride to leave. “Have a safe drive back,” Anthony said, giving her a hug. 

“I will,” she responded. 

He opened the driver’s side door for her. “I’m really glad you came, you know. Everyone liked you, you fit in great.” 

“It wasn’t all me,” she said, sliding into the seat, turning her head to Anthony to continue the conversation. “Everyone really did seem to go out of their way to make me feel included, I think they understood the feeling of moving to a whole new place without a big support system and wanted to do what they could to help mitigate that for me.” Astride consciously left out Lauren’s little comment, four words that had been bouncing around in her head for hours since they had been said. He didn’t need to know. She didn’t need him to know, it could confuse him and complicate things when they were just getting back into the rhythm of friendship, of being each other’s person. 

Anthony tapped his fingers on the car door. “I’m glad.” 

“Me too.”

Beau went to sleep that night, Mat’s words bouncing around in his head. “I know she’s off-limits.” It’s not like Cass was his sister or something, someone who would inherently be barred from his best friend’s dating pool. But Mat seemed to know right away, without having ever been told, that she wasn’t someone he could ever even consider pursuing. Why? And what did Mat seem to know that he didn’t?

November 12 (fri)

It was early November, and Anthony and Astride had just settled down at a table in Prospect Park, coffee cups warming their hands through the late fall chill. “How do you feel about last night?” Astride asked teasingly. He had a three point game, two goals and an assist in a 4-1 win over the Canes, so there really wasn’t any question that he was still riding on the high. 

Beau rolled his eyes. “Good, obviously. It would have been nice to get a hat trick, but I know that’s asking for a lot and I didn’t want to tempt fate too much. They made a really good push late in the second.”

“But you won,” she said, poking his shoulder with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her mocha. 

“But we won,” he agreed. He suddenly got quiet, the kind of quiet where, if you know the person well enough, you can tell that something’s up. That they’re thinking of something. And Astride was right. “Do you ever think about Switzerland?” he asked. 

Astride looked at him from the side, knowing right away that he wasn’t asking about the country. “All the time,” she admitted. 

---

It was the spring of 2015, and they were in Lucerne. By they, Astride meant her, Tito, and the rest of the 2015 Canadian U18 World Cup team. And by in Lucerne, she meant crowded into someone’s hotel room with no adult supervision. Anthony wasn’t sure where any of the coaching staff had gone, but if he was being honest, he was riding on way too big of a high to even care. They had clinched the bronze medal earlier that day, celebrating with the family and friends who had made the trip out, gotten dinner, and then packed into the first team room they came to. Well, technically, Astride, Tito, and Mat had made a stop at the grocery store before meeting everyone else back in the room. The drinking age in Switzerland was 16 for everything but spirits, and everyone was planning on taking full advantage of that. The cashier gave them a look as she took her and Anthony’s French licenses and Mat’s English one, but the charge went through just fine, and fifteen minutes later they were walking back through the doorway with three cases of beer and a few bottles of sparkling wine for good measure. Astride had never been so grateful to have her own checking account. 

“You ever drink before?” Mat asked her as they opened the cases. 

Astride shrugged. “Not really. A glass of wine every now and again back home with my parents, but nothing too crazy.” 

He held out a bottle for her, fishing around in his pocket for the bottle opener they had picked up at the store. “Have fun.” 

And have fun Astride did. She had finished off two of the beers, and one of the younger teammates — she didn’t remember who — had popped open the wine. In his slightly inebriated state, it took longer than it should have to twist off the muselet, which then led to foam all over the floor and fifteen sixteen and seventeen-year-olds running to the bathroom to grab towels to try and mop it up with. And then running back to the bathroom to get the water glasses because they needed something to drink it out of, right? And then to everyone else’s rooms because they quickly realized that two cups definitely wasn’t enough to go around, and then everyone was back in the room, on the beds and around the beds, finally letting themselves celebrate. Astride was just finishing her glass when Mat spoke. “Anyone up for never have I ever?” Nobody said otherwise, so two minutes later, they were all arranged in what could very generously be called a circle, fresh drinks in hand. After a solid five minutes of repeating the rules — there was always at least one person who seemed to genuinely struggle with the idea that you drank if you had done the thing, not if you hadn’t — they were slowly but surely making their way around the circle. 

Questions ranged from the mundane — “Never have I ever gotten detention” — to the raunchy — “Never have I ever had my parents walk in on me” — neither of which Astride or Tito drank to. 

By the time it was Mat’s turn, he had had plenty of time to think, looking around the group with a conspiratorial grin. “What is it?” Tito asked skeptically. 

He shrugged. “Never have I ever...kissed anyone in the circle.” As expected, nobody drank, but apparently that wasn’t expected, not for Mat, at least. He looked between Anthony and Astride incredulously. “Seriously? You two have never kissed?”

Anthony shook his head. “Nope.”

“How? You’ve been friends for, like, a million years, not even when you were little or anything?” he asked. 

“Never,” Astride said. “Kind of hard to kiss your best friend when you haven’t kissed anyone before.” She barely even realized that everyone was still listening in. 

“You’ve never kissed anyone?” Anthony asked, surprised. 

Astride looked down at her hands, sipping her beer. “Nope.” She gave him a brief smile. “I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but no. Just hasn’t happened yet.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was feelings buried so deeply in Anthony’s mind that he didn’t think would ever see the light of day, let alone have to be confronted, that made him say what he did next. “I could—if you wanted—you don’t have to, but—” he stammered.

Astride laughed, looking at him curiously. “What is it, Tito? You’re not normally one to stumble over your words like that.”

He picked at his fingernails, an old nervous tick from his childhood that his mother was never quite able to get him to break, keenly aware that the whole room had decided to listen into their conversation. “I was just trying to say...I could do it, if you want. Kiss you, I mean. If you just wanted to get it over with, or whatever. I just figured. You know me, you trust me, you’re comfortable with me. Better that than some idiot at school who doesn’t care about you.”

Her cheeks burned as she looked over at him, but even though it took her nearly a minute to respond, she had her answer after five seconds. “Why not?” Astride flashed him the purest, gentlest smile, the kind that let him know just how much she cared about him and how deeply she trusted him. And the look on her face meant the world to him. 

Anthony leaned in, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, his fingertips just barely touching her cheek as their foreheads leant together. “You sure about this?” He needed her to be sure. 

She nodded. “I’ve had a couple of drinks, and I never imagined my first kiss would be in front of an audience,” she paused to giggle at the rest of the team, who were giving the scene their full attention in a way that somehow wasn’t uncomfortable at all, just wholesome and supportive, “but yeah. I’m sure.”

That was all the permission Anthony needed to lean forward, pressing his lips against hers, in a kiss that was soft and sweet and somehow everything Astride needed all in one. He pulled back after a moment, a goofy smile on his face. “How was it?”

Astride couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Good, it was really good, Tito. Thank you for that.”

“What are friends for?”

---

“Friends are for kissing each other, apparently,” Astride giggled, leaning into Anthony on his couch. 

He laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over her arm. “Did you ever think something was going to happen between us?” Anthony asked curiously. 

Astride shrugged. “At some point, yeah. I think it was kind of hard not to, with our parents and literally everyone we spent time with saying we were destined to fall in love.” She looked down at her hands, trying not to give away the fact that at one point, she had believed them. 

November 30 (tues)

“Do you want to come over Friday?” Anthony asked, sprawled out across her couch on one of his rare nights off. He had made the drive over to Astride’s apartment, cooking salmon and roasting vegetables while she took the much more daunting task of picking what to watch on Netflix. She settled on Back to the Future. “I can order in Thai, I know we’re trying to work our way through the Mission Impossibles.” 

Astride grimaced. “I actually...kind of have a date Friday night,” she admitted. 

Anthony made a hum of surprise. “You do?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so shocked, Tito. There are men in this city of nine million who want to take me out.” 

He sputtered. “It’s not that that shocks me, Asty. You’d have men lining up around the block for you if you’d give any of them a second glance. It’s just that. You never seem to bother actually going after any of them. What made this one different?” 

“I mean, honestly hour?” Astride said, shrugging. 

“Honestly hour.” 

“I haven’t been on a date since I left Montréal, you know that. It had been a few months there too. And I’ve loved hanging out with you more, getting to know Mat and the team and everyone’s partners, but...I needed something different, too. Something that felt like a part of my life that wasn’t directly connected to the team. Which, don’t get me wrong,” she added hastily, “I love them, and it’s been so nice to be a part of that group, I just…” Astride trailed off. 

“You can’t let that be the only part of your life. I get it,” Anthony added helpfully.  

“Yeah,” Astride agreed. “So enter Cole. He works in a different division of the IE department, I’m obviously Europe and he’s Asia, mostly does work with Taiwan and Singapore. Um,” she said, her eyes turning towards the ceiling, “he seems really nice, did international business at UPenn, which is a great program. Speaks fluent Mandarin, uh, I think he mentioned he’s got a few fish at home.” 

Anthony snorted. “What’s wrong with fish?” Astride asked defensively. 

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong with fish,” he said. “Just seems like an odd choice. Maybe his building doesn’t allow pets or something.” 

“Maybe,” Astride responded. “I wouldn’t know, he lives in Manhattan, over in Tribeca. Bikes to work.” 

Tito laughed again. “I don’t trust people who bike to work in New York City, Asty. They have zero regard for their own lives or safety.” 

She giggled. “That might be true. But I’m looking forward to it, the date, I mean. I really am. It’s been a while since I’ve really put myself back out there, and I’m ready for something good. Something real.” 

He gave a half-smile from his side of the couch. “I’m happy for you, Astride. I hope you have a great time, and I hope he treats you right. If he doesn’t, just let him know that you can sic an entire professional hockey team on him with a single phone call.” 

“I will,” she said. “I’ll call you when it’s over, tell you how it went.” “

I’ll be waiting,” he said. 

Anthony thought back on the conversation as he sat on the corner of his bed that night, about to go to sleep. He turned his phone over and over in his hands, his eyes fixating on the chip in the crown molding that he hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet. He wasn’t lying to Astride when he said he was happy for her. He was, of course he was, who wouldn’t want their best friend to be happy? But while he wanted nothing more, nothing more, than to be able to give his full-throated support for her date, and the potential the future held for her and this Cole guy, he couldn’t do it. There was something stopping him. And the worst part of it all was that Anthony was starting to realize what it was. 

---

Astride had said that their dinner reservation was at 7, some brasserie in the West Village. “That’s a French thing, right?” Cole had asked. 

“It is,” Astride responded, gearing up for her translation skills to be used for the first time in months. She spoke almost exclusively French around Tito, and with JGP and Brassard, but the majority of her day was spent in English. Cole said that the restaurant had come highly recommended from one of his Wall Street friends, something that should have been the first red flag. 

“Never trust the finance bros,” Reese, a German specialist and one of her friends at the office, had said. “They all think they’re God’s gift to mankind when I can guarantee you they ain’t shit.”  

She had said it was at 7, so Anthony wasn’t expecting to hear from her until much later; honestly, he would have been surprised if she had called before 10. He tried not to think about what it could mean if she didn’t call at all that night. She had said it was at 7, so when he heard a knock at his door at half past nine, he practically jumped out of his skin before scrambling to open the door. His eyebrows rose when he saw Astride on the other side of the door, then his face contorted into a look of sympathy as he saw the sad smile on her lips, her jacket slung over one arm. 

“Can I come in?” she asked. He nodded without question, holding the door while stepping out of the way. He padded to the kitchen, bringing out a bottle of Moscato and two glasses. Astride smiled gratefully at him as he uncorked the bottle and poured. He knew that she couldn’t do red wine when she was upset, and she was upset. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked tentatively. 

Astride shrugged, sipping the wine. “Not much to tell other than it was probably the worst first date I’ve ever been on.” 

That piqued Anthony’s interest. He’d never be happy that she was upset, but something told him the story wasn’t quite that simple. “What about it was so bad?” 

“Where do I begin?” she sighed. “He was on time, but that’s pretty much the only thing Cole did right the entire night. He was rude to the waitress when we had to wait all of ten minutes until our reservation was ready, because the couple ahead had gone long. Then he ordered the most expensive bottle of red wine they had, without even asking me to see what I wanted. He really just was trying to show off that he could afford it. And it was a Sangiovese, and you know I hate dry wines, so I was just trying to choke the whole thing down. And then he insisted on ordering for me, which is probably the most chauvinistic thing I could think of, I mean, who does that anymore?” she asked incredulously. 

Tito shrugged. It was disrespectful, absolutely, but more than that, it was just weird. If women have mouths that work, then they’re more than capable of doing something as simple as ordering their own food. 

“And he kept trying to pour me more wine after the first glass, even when I told him a million times I was good.” Anthony’s grip on his glass tightened. Astride rubbed her temples with her free hand. “He just kept going on and on about work, and this big promotion he’s insisting he’s going to get even though I know for a fact that they want Maria for it. I could barely get a word in edgewise. That’s when I just decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I faked that Jean-Claude was calling, grabbed my jacket, and caught a cab over here.” She looked up at him, the same disappointed expression she had worn when he opened the door. “I was really hoping this one would pan out, Tito.” 

He felt an ache in his heart. He may have been less than thrilled about the prospect of Astride going out on a date, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less to see her so despondent. He leaned over, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose. “I know, Asty. And I’m sorry it didn’t.”

December 13 (mon)

Anthony and Mat were the last ones in the locker room after a morning practice. “I found this new place nearby last week that’s got great smoothie bowls, want to get one after you finish packing your stuff?” Anthony asked, looking over at Mat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, Sounds good,” Mat nodded, half-listening. 

Anthony glanced over at him, a weird look on his face. “You good, dude? You sound distracted.”

Mat spoke abruptly, looking over at Tito with a laser-focused expression. “How long have you been in love with Astride?” 

Anthony’s eyebrows jumped a foot. “In love with Astride? Why would you think that?”

Mat gave him a look, the kind of look that let Anthony know he was dead serious about what he was saying, and more than that, that he believed it. “Tito, I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid.”

Anthony leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “It’s that obvious?” 

“Yep,” Mat said, popping the p. 

“Do you think she knows?” His voice had dropped to barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know,” Mat said, shrugging. “I don’t think so, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to really be able to know about something as big as that and not address it. Doesn’t like to keep things bottled up, it’s not really her style.”

Anthony nodded. “It’s not.” He raked one hand through his haid, his head still leaning on the other one. “God. How do you tell your best friend you’re in love with her?”

Mat put one hand on Beau’s back, comforting him as best he could. “I don’t know, Tito. I wish I could help. What I do know,” he said, “is that you’re going to have to eventually. Because it’s going to tear you up if you don’t.”

December 18 (sat)

Astride tossed one final empty can into the garbage bag. “I think that’s it,” she said, giving his living room a cursory look. What had looked like a warzone only less than an hour before now more closely resembled the somewhat-messy but perfectly respectable bachelor pad of a man in his 20s, like it should have. With the holidays approaching, Anthony had decided to take it into his own hands to host a party — alongside Astride, who he had practically begged for help — intent on showcasing his newly-acquired skills by playing bartender the whole night. He was surprisingly capable, Astride had thought, if her Sazerac was anything to go by. 

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Asty. And thanks for staying and helping clean everything up, you really didn’t have to.” 

She tied the bag off and set it by the door with the other one. “I wanted to. And besides, I’m staying over,” she said, looking over at Anthony, “so what did you think I was going to do? Lock myself in the guest room while you cleaned up the whole apartment by yourself? What kind of a woman do you take me for?” she asked in mock offense. 

Anthony laughed, sitting down on the couch with a satisfying thump, pulling Astride into his side when she settled next to him. 

“I’m so glad we got back in contact,” she said, muffled against the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m so glad we’re friends again.” 

He felt guilty; more than that, he knew that the guilt, at least some of it, was deserved. “I should have done more,” he lamented. “I should have done more to keep in contact, more to show you I cared, more so you’d know that your friendship is one of the things I value most in my life.” 

Astride gave a small smile. “It’s a two-way street, Tito. Sure, I won’t lie and say that you really put all that much effort into keeping in contact. You didn’t.” He winced, she shot him a sympathetic look. “I love you, but you know me. I don’t mince my words. But I definitely could have done more than text you congratulations or leave a thirty-second voicemail on your birthday. We both could have done more. We both should have done more,” she said, correcting herself. “What do you think happened, though? Where did we go wrong?” As much as she might have hated it, Astride was that kind of person. She went through every bad decision in her life with a fine-toothed comb, needing to know what went wrong, needing to know what she could have done differently. 

“I think,” he began, “that it was just so easy to get distracted from ‘back home’ things. From our friendship, from my relationships with my family. From the important things, the things that I should have made an effort to prioritize even when the season got hectic and games got hard. And I’m not trying to make excuses,” he added quickly, “but there was just something about where I was, physically and mentally. I was 19, a rookie in one of the biggest cities in the world, and I think I just lost sight of things. Between the practices and games and going out and community events and trying to get in more than five hours of sleep a night, it was a lot,” he admitted. “It was stressful, probably weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. And I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I’m well aware I was — and am — living a life thousands of kids would kill for, but there’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes that you don’t really understand unless you’ve been through it. I don’t have many regrets from my rookie season, or really many in my career so far. Don’t regret moving for minors, don’t regret going to the Isles, don’t regret any of the contracts I’ve signed or plays I’ve made. Well,” he smirked, “maybe a few. But the one big one? The only real regret I’ve had? Letting you go.” 

Astride swallowed hard, choosing her next words carefully. “What do you mean, letting me go?”

Anthony let out a hard sigh. He’d put it off for long enough. He couldn’t do it any longer. “Never telling you how I feel.”

“How you feel?” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, her fingers tangling in the fringe of the fleece blanket that was slung over the couch cushions. 

“Like I love you so much my heart could burst.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “How long have you known?”

He looked at her with a soft smile. “Ever since Switzerland.”

“Six years?”

“Six years.” He reached out slowly, so slowly, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear when she didn’t move back. They sat in silence for a moment, and when Anthony spoke again, his voice wavered. “Asty? Say something.”

Astride’s lifted her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I knew since I was 15.”

His face split into a grin, wider and wider until she was sure she’d never seen a bigger smile. “You did? You do?”

She nodded, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching. She put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat fluttering butterfly-fast underneath her fingertips. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was, Tito.”

He pushed forward, pressing his lips against hers for the first time since 2015, the first time since Switzerland. It was gentle and meaningful and somehow communicated all of the love and emotion that had been built up between the two of them in the past six years. Anthony pulled back after a minute, his lips pink and slightly puffy. “Tell me where your head’s at, Astride.”

“Is it too cliché to just say that this might be the happiest I’ve been in years?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.” But there was something that she wasn’t quite letting go of. “What is it, Astride?”

Astride sniffed. “I want this. You and I, I want it so mad it hurts. I just hate the idea that we’d turn into some sort of cliché. Childhood friends who grow up and fall in love, but something goes wrong and they split up and suddenly the dynamic of everything is messed up and I don’t want that, Tito. I don’t know if I could deal with you hating me because of how things ended.” 

“But things don’t have to end, Asty. Every broken heart, every date where some asshole has stood you up has led you to know that you deserve more. You deserve so much more, Astride, you deserve the sun and the moon and someone who would hang them in the sky for you. It doesn’t have to end in heartbreak. It doesn’t have to end at all.” 

Astride had always been someone who was cautious, someone who thought before she acted and never spoke without thinking through every possible outcome. But this was one of the times that she couldn’t do that, one of the times when, as much as she may have hated it, she needed to take a leap of faith. And so she did. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Anthony asked, his voice lifting. 

She nodded, the happiness on her face unmistakable. “Okay.”

And as Astride and Anthony FaceTimed her parents to break the news, her mom slapping her dad’s shoulder, claiming that she had “called it” back in 2014, Astride was filled with a sense of undeniable, irreplaceable joy. The kind of joy that the poets write about and artists put brush to canvas trying to depict, the kind that most people go their whole lives only hoping to get a glimpse of. The kind that made Astride more certain of one thing than she had perhaps been in her entire life. It didn’t have to end in heartbreak. And this one didn’t have to end at all. 

And as they stood two years later in a little church in their hometown, promising in front of their family and friends and the entire New York Islanders to love each other for the rest of their lives, Astride finally believed it.

[aknosde]

Riordainverse characters with instagram head cannons

Percy

he’s got a respectable following, ~80k, a fair amount of his followers are people who remember him as that kid who got kidnapped and defeated his captor on the beach, or people who say that he’s attractive, which he doesn’t understand

doesn’t really do anything special but people love his posts cus they’re “cryptic”, also he seems to be friends with a lot of people who are also mysterious

sketches of his friends and weapons n’ stuff

a photo of him and Nico sword fighting in the arena

him and Annabeth on top of the rock climbing wall

at pride with Nico, Will, Leo, Jason, and Reyna

a selfie of him with a few sharks underwater

a group photo of a dozen teenagers in armor with a giant dog behind them

a video of him skateboarding across the brooklyn bridge ranting about the gods but most of it’s lost in the wind

The comments section is gold. “is that kids hand on fire?!?” “Is that kid with goat legs a furry?” “Percy I swear to the gods, you’ve got to stop taking underwater selfies with dangerous animals, it’s dinner time.” “How are all of these people so hot?” “is that lava?” “Wait isn’t this the kid that had a shotgun battle with his kidnapper on a beach???” “Did he insult Zeus?”

Annabeth

public account, maybe 30k

architecture sketches

a picture she took of Percy in a museum

a picture of her and a few others during a strategy meeting

photo of her school notes

pictures of buildings she designed on Olympus, mortals are confused because the places are so pretty but they can't be found anywhere

also stuff in the comments: “where is that???” “how are your notes so pretty?” “planning for friday, wise girl?”

Nico

has a public account for some reason so he has ~40k followers

actually is a pretty good artist so sometimes he posts drawings

him & Will somewhere random (where they shouldn’t be) having a picnic

photo from Hades’ palace

him and Reyna

sparring

photo of the river styx “remember when you swam in here @/prettysureimbijackson” “@/GhostKing if i recall, that was your idea, and it ended with me taking down your dads army” “what the hell guys”

comments: “where did you get the idea to draw that?” [its a monster he saw in tartarus] “How did you even get there???” “your boyfriend is looking for you di Angelo”

Frank

his accounts also public ~10k

photos of animals, each time he posts one the type of animal is more rare, usually with a caption like “I learned more about X today”

a picture Hazel took of him on the archery range

Him at some event with Reyna, Jason, and Percy, they’re all wearing Praetor clothes

him and Hazel

maybe some photos of food

comments are more tame but: “why are you dressed like that?” “Where did you find the rare X???”

has kinda drawn the attention of some animal welfare people who are confused

Piper

has a lot of followers, some are just superfans of her dad tho :( ~200k

a photo of her and Jason somewhere really high up

a picture Jason took of her in front of some shops in New Rome

pretty food from some cafe

surfing with the others (Percy and her are really good, you can see Leo flailing around in the background)

a really pretty picture of her dagger

comments: “how are you so pretty” “is there someone drowning in the back?” “how’d you get up there?” “a beautiful weapon for a beautiful girl ;)”

Leo

smaller following, but his account is private, but anyone who requests is accepted, ~3k

festus <3

little machines he’s made

a clip of he and Percy high giving but there’s steam coming out from between their hands

the forges

him and the 7 + Nico, Reyna, and Will in formal attire making silly faces

him and the others, everyone is drenched except him and Percy

him, percy, jason, and hazel, the caption “Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked ;)”

comments: “what’re you planning Valdez?” “@/prettysureimbijackson don’t you mean ‘water you planning?’” “what does this contraption do?” “cuteee!” 

Hazel

doesn’t post a lot

private account, only accepts people she kinda knows, ~400 followers

random animals who are all named Frank

her and human Frank

her and Nico

food

Arion, a lot of Arion

comments: “Is you’re horse eating gold” “[in reply] he’s picky like that” “you really like the name Frank huh?”

Jason

doesn’t post often, public account ~20k

photos of him and Piper

pics of completed alters for the other gods

sword fighting with Percy

him and Thalia

video games with the 7+ Reyna, Nico, and Will

comments: “oh look it’s captain america” “more like a blonde superman” “is that a sword” “wait it’s this that movie stars son who mysteriously disappeared? How does he know Percy Jackson?”

Reyna

public account, ~60k, doesn’t understand how she got so many followers

sparring 

her and Thalia ;)

her dogs

the view from that garden for Bacchus

hot chocolate

her in armor & praetor gear with her sword during war games

comments: “sword lesbian” 

im gonna make more of these cus its fun

[be-more-chill-evan-hansen]

Holy crap I was not expecting this much feedback

I’m tagging everyone that vocally expressed interest in the idea that I had that you can find here if you haven’t seen it yet. A lot more people saw this post than I expected. The tagged does not include people who just reblogged it. It does include people who replied and people who reblogged with a caption that stated vocal interest in this project. Though the post has like over 170 notes, not many people vocally expressed their interest (and @newsiesoflowermanhattan posted it on Instagram which got like 300 likes what???)

@i-guarantee @alkimara @pineappapizza @i-got-personality @scenemlms @origamist-ravenclaw-queer @buttons-in-the-refuge @prettylittlepolaroid @newspapersinyour-shoes @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @pulitzerpublishers​ @sweeps-of-london @a-genderfluid-hoodie-whore @satansspaghettie @hufflepuffpride210

Thank you guys for showing interest. If you would like to help in any way, whether it’s costume design, scriptwriting (which will be my main area), research, coming up with the plot points, or just helping from afar, please continue reading this post. Anyone who went back to read the post and has an interest in helping, please feel free to read as well. 

So there are many things that can make a historically accurate movie about the newsboys strike good on its own without having to add overly dramatic cinematic stuff to it.

There was a freaking FEMALE UNION OFFICER THAT IS NEVER MENTIONED named Annie Kelly and all of the boys respected her as an officer. She made a short speech at the rally as well.

Kid Blink and Dave Simmons, who was the other strike leader, were accused by the newsies of selling the “boycotted papers” (and in one source Kid Blink admitted to selling the papers for money but the accuracy is iffy). Blink was demoted and Dave stepped down and became the secretary. Someone named James G. Neill became president and Race became Vice President of the union.

Moses Burris, Louis Kirlow, and John Gallupo, the three original leaders that kept the newsies from caving to other offers, got arrested, and their arrest sparked the whole strike. After they got arrested, the newsies refused to take the papers regardless of the deal they were given.

A lot of fighting scabs.

The rally was pretty cool.

Brooklyn blocked the bridge completely for like almost a week and stopped the traffic which in turn shut down the whole city.

SPOT’S. PINK. SUSPENDERS.

I’m more than positive that there are more things, but these are things that I did research on for my presentation last semester. I’m doing more research, but thank you guys so much for your interest! I will most likely make a Discord for the project, so please stay notified for that, and please tell me if you want to join the discord!

[sounmashnews]

[ad_1] Phoenix Suns star Devin Booker has been mocked for his response after the NBA powerhouse was humiliated 134-124 to the Adelaide 36ers.The basketball world was left stunned after Adelaide turned the primary NBL group to beat an NBA aspect and first non-American group to beat an NBA aspect since 2015 when Fenerbahce defeated Brooklyn.Watch each recreation stay of the 2022/23 NBL Season on ESPN on Kayo Sports. New to Kayo? Start your free trial now >Although it was a pre-season tune up for the Suns, the likes of Booker, Chris Paul, Mikal Bridges and DeAndre Ayton all performed within the match, albeit for 22 minutes every.But after the match, Booker took to Instagram, posting a picture of LeBron James after his Miami Heat had been knocked out of the NBA finals in 2011 with the caption “Mood”.At the time, LeBron was requested if he was bothered by followers revelling in his losses, to which he replied: “At the end of the day, all the people that’s rooting for me to fail, they have to wake up tomorrow and have the same life that they had before they woke up today.“They can get a few days or a few months on being happy about not only myself but the Miami Heat not accomplishing their goal, but they have to get back to the real world at some point.”James defined later he meant it to be that everybody strikes on.But Booker’s publish was laughed off the web as fan identified the Heat had misplaced the NBA Finals in 2011, not a pre-season recreation to an NBL aspect with a finances of $1.7m for expertise — in comparison with $A270m for the Suns.Even worse the 36ers had been 10-18 final 12 months and completed seventh on the NBL ladder, seven wins behind the fourth-placed Tasmania JackJumpers.Sports Illustrated Clippers author Farbod Esnaashari posted: “Devin Booker posting that LeBron video on his IG story is literally the opposite thing to do if you want people to stop making fun of you”.MavsMoneybal.com’s editor-in-chief Kirk Henderson wrote: “There’s quite a list of lame incidents for Devin Booker for a super star player.”Sports reporter Trey Matthews posted: “Devin Booker is making it harder and harder for people to root for him … he’s way too cocky.”Radio host Danny Marang tweeted: “Updating the Bad Vibes ranking with Suns #1”.The 36ers had been loving the eye as properly, posting final evening: “Just a notice for you 36ers fans, the Sun goes down in Adelaide is at roughly 7.20pm tonight. Book it in so you can see your second Sun go down for the day”.36ers coach CJ Bruton was thrilled with the victory as David as soon as once more slayed Goliath.“Everyone wants to create history and I needed to remind my players that while we had this opportunity we needed to take advantage of it,” Bruton stated from Arizona.“I’m excited for my boys and the NBL and the 36ers and I’m excited that my family is here and happy and seeing my players happy … it’s not championship but it’s a good start for where our season may begin.“I’ve played Olympics, played elite level and travelled around, and this is amazing. The reason why we are here is for the game.“But that was for our league, it wasn’t just for us, it was for our league standing up.”Read associated matters:Adelaide [ad_2] Source link

[2-fast-2-curious]

Peter Parker x Black Reader

Masterlist for Peter Parker

Original Request:

“Your headcanons about Peter dating an Indian American and a Filipino are so good!! I was wondering if you could do a Peter Parker dating a black reader headcanon, if request are open of course“

Author’s Note: I guess with this one race was less of a focal point. I mean most of my POC headcanons are about food and language so it was challenging to write one without relying on those tropes. Anyway, I was still happy to write it. :)

 You’re the head of student communications at Midtown

Even you have to admit that it was a great idea to pitch a new initiative to the principal and make yourself the department head

To be honest the student communications team is just you but you’re going to crush the extracurricular component of your college applications

Your job is basically just putting out social media posts and working on a newsletter announcement or two

One day you’re kind of bored with the monotony of your role so you decide to try something new that will help with student engagement

You’re going to do Humans of New York but with students of Midtown

You flip your yearbook to a random page and close your eyes, choosing your first victim subject

Parker, Peter

You bit your lip seeing his yearbook photo, he was cute

The next day, you corner Peter in the cafeteria and tell him about your plan

He’s reluctant since it’s the first time you’ve spoke to him and he’s got a couple of skeletons in his closet but you were so enthusiastic about your idea

And Ned agreed on his behalf

Afterschool you and Peter meet up at an all-day diner

You have your list of questions written neatly on your notepad

He starts talking and opening up to you about his childhood and how he ended up living with Aunt May 

For a moment everything feels really raw and Peter’s kind of embarrassed about how he unloaded all his emotional baggage on you like that

But you assure him that you appreciate how vulnerable he is being and order a slice of key lime pie to share

After your little interview, you go to a local park and stage an impromptu photoshoot

Peter being photogenic AF and you’re kind of jealous

Writing your little blurb and choosing the photo for Instagram

And like you expected everyone loves it and starts volunteering to be your next profile

A couple of weeks later of successful posts, Peter pulls you aside and asks if he can nominate someone to get profiled

You think he’s going to nominate Ned or MJ as revenge or something

But to your surprise, he says he’d like to learn more a lot more about someone he doesn’t know nearly enough about

You

“Peter, I can’t write my own profile“

“I was hoping I could take care of that for you.“

“Oh.“

Peter takes you to Brooklyn Bridge Park, and there’s a great view of the skyline to act as a backdrop to your photos, he even gets a few of you in front of the carousel

You get Shake Shack and Peter interviews you in between bites of burgers, fries, and frozen custard

As Peter’s completing your write up, he knows he’s a goner

He asks you out in the caption of your ‘Students of Midtown’ profile

Luckily you agree

You and Peter go to the Museum of Natural History for your first date

You and Peter sharing your first kiss in front of the giant t-rex skeleton

The elementary students on their field trip telling you that you’re going to catch cooties

The two of you being inseparable and super cute

Making Peter blush

“It’s not fair that I can’t see if you’re blushing or not“

Peter just loves touching you, he does so whenever he can

Holding hands, cupping your face, throwing his arm around your shoulder

Sitting in Peter’s lap

Having very heated conversations when it comes to couples Halloween costumes

The two of you have to flip a coin to decide 

Catwoman and Batman, if you win

Princess Leia and Han Solo if he wins

The main reason Peter chose it was because he thinks you’d look so stunning with your hair in buns

And he may or may not have already been watching Youtube tutorials to make sure he can help you with them

[instafbcaptions-blog]

95 Brooklyn Instagram Captions for Bridge Pictures in 2022

95 Brooklyn Instagram Captions for Bridge Pictures in 2022

Brooklyn is a beautiful place and there is just lot to do there and one such famous thing there is Brooklyn Bridge. If you visited Brooklyn then you would have surely clicked many and for your pictures we’ve collected various Brooklyn captions that include Best Brooklyn New York Captions, Dumbo Brooklyn Captions, Brooklyn Bridge Captions and also Funny Brooklyn Captions. If these captions don’t…

[thealashraf]

134 Brooklyn Quotes And Brooklyn Bridge Captions For Instagram Picturesque Pics.

134 Brooklyn Quotes And Brooklyn Bridge Captions For Instagram Picturesque Pics.

Thank you for visiting my website in this post Brooklyn Quotes And Brooklyn Bridge Captions for your picturesque pictures of the Brooklyn Bridge. As the most populous borough of New York City, Brooklyn offers a wide range of exciting activities and attractions. You’ll have your choice of activities and places to explore all year long, whether it’s Coney Island, the new Barclays Center, or one of…

[shopinger]

300+ Brooklyn Bridge Instagram Captions [2022] Cool, Good, Clever

300+ Brooklyn Bridge Instagram Captions [2022] Cool, Good, Clever

Brooklyn Bridge Captions and Brooklyn Bridge Quotes: If you want to upload photos to Facebook or Instagram or if you want to give a status to your social media profile and you are looking for some Brooklyn Bridge captions? So you’re in the right place. Here on this site, you can find the best collections of Brooklyn Bridge captions and Brooklyn Bridge quotes for Instagram. Here on this site, we…

[route22ny]

“Here is the once classy/glassy entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge station of the IRT Lexington Avenue Line. Originally known as Brooklyn Bridge, and later as Brooklyn Bridge—Worth Street, the station was connected to the BMT Nassau Line in 1914, a year after the Chambers Street station was completed.  The entrances and exits to the original subway stations were structures with either domed (entrance) or peaked (exit) roofs,”

Photo and caption from the urbanarchive instagram feed.

[alykrysgetsfit]

In August I had a nice stay-cation filled with many adventures.  Little did I know that the next few weeks would also be full of adventures that I want to share about, but that would be too much for one post…so I will stick with what I did that week.  Here you will learn about my volunteering at VBS, and my Friday in NYC.

I joined St. Matthew’s church last year when Steve and I moved to Wilton from Darien.  I like to get involved in my church community, so when I learned that my week off of work lined up with VBS I signed up to help on the days that I did not already have plans.  So I was able to help on Monday and Wednesday that week.  VBS had a space theme this year, and the kids learned about how to show kindness, and love to their neighbors.  We also did some really cool art projects.  I say we because I totally made them along side of the kids…I’m a big kid myself.

Give a smile bag

Cetus

The canvas bags that we painted will be filled with goodies for people in the community to bring them cheer.  They are called “give a smile bags” and the kids loved making them.  The whale painting now also has some stars on it.  Its a constellation named Cetus aka the whale. It now hangs above my bed.  I’m quite proud of how it turned out.

I had big plans for the Friday of stay-cation week….NYC day! When I moved to CT ten years ago I was hanging out with some people, and eventually got connected to Sarah Funk through them, as she was dating my friends brother. A few years ago she quit her day job to become a travel and experience blogger, and she is now doing AMAZING things!! She creates youtube videos about NYC and now also offers tours. I had been wanting to check out one of her tours, but never had a Friday off, so I booked the tour with her as soon as I found out that I had a free Friday.  I have been on many NYC tours since moving out here, and I learned totally new things from Sarah.  She has some great stories to share, you should go if you have the chance.  If you don’t learn something you did not already know about NYC, I will be very surprised.  You can find Sarah here  and also on instagram @sarahfunky. If you cant go on a tour, you can learn a lot from her YouTube channel.

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Audrey Munson was the first supermodel

Sarah and I in “Ireland”

A piece of the Berlin wall that was donated to NYC

Sarah explains the origin of the NYE Ball Drop

View of the Brooklyn Bridge

Sarah telling us about the Brooklyn Bridge curse

After Sarah’s tour I got to have lunch with an old friend, visited the Fabletics IRL store, had a great dinner nearby and then went to see Frozen on Broadway.

The Fabletics store was so awesome!  I have been wearing Fabletics active-wear since April of 2018 and love it.  It was nice to be able to try stuff on before deciding if I wanted to buy it or not.  As I was trying things on, the other ladies liked my outfit choices so much that they wanted to try the same things.  It felt so empowering to have people looking up to my choices, as these women were also curvy and excited that there are clothes at Fabletics that truly fit curvy girls. The ladies that were working at the store were all shapes and sizes as well, so it was the most welcome I have felt in an active wear store. They offer the membership pricing in store, and also were able to compensate/adjust outfit deals based on what they had in stock.  I left with more clothes than I anticipated, but also spent WAY less on them than the ticket price due to discounts, and also a pair of free leggings.

I have arrived!!

The outfit that made my butt look so good that all the other ladies wanted to try the same outfit!

Want to give Fabletics a try? click here 🙂

When I booked my tour with Sarah, I knew that I would want to see a show that night to make the trek in to NYC more worth it.  I am on a budget so I used Broadway Roulette  to book my ticket. I found out at 9:00am  on show day what I was going to see.  I wasn’t sure what to think when I found out that I was going to see Frozen, but I ended up loving it.  I really like that they added a bit more depth to the story and the new songs are brilliant.  The visuals were stunning.  I left with a smile on my face and a TON of confetti “snow”in my hair  in my bags and probably trailing behind me all the way back to CT.  Its a good show to see to feed your inner child and Disney wonder.

So there you have it. You now know how I spent my staycation…well the parts of it when I was not fighting off the cold that the baby passed to me right before they left for their trip. Life is all about balance, and doing the most we can when we are feeling great, to make up for the times that we are not feeling so great.

I was also supposed to see Fiddler on The Roof in Yiddish during my stay-cation, but plans changed and I saw it the next week…keep an eye out for my post about Fiddler, my first Mets game, the Norwalk Oyster Festival and the New York Renaissance Fair over the next few weeks.

Thank you for being here following along with my life adventures. The ups and the downs and the everything between.  If you want to see more from me on a more regular basis you can keep up with the day to day life of Alyssa here.

Have a great day!!

August Stay-Cation In August I had a nice stay-cation filled with many adventures.  Little did I know that the next few weeks would also be full of adventures that I want to share about, but that would be too much for one post...so I will stick with what I did that week. 

[katef-m]

daily reports (wed, thu, fri)

Wednesday is all bookshops - sorry, bookstores, American google maps doesn’t recognise the word bookshop - and citymapper. There’s a food market in Union Square and from the subway I emerge, blinking in the thick of it, disorientated. When my family visited NYC in 2014, my brother began calling me ‘meerkat’ because of my confused facial expression every time I stepped out from a subway and didn’t know which direction the blocks were going, which way was east. The name stuck, probably because I tend to look confused most of the time. Meerkat. Meerkate. I go to Strand books first, kind of eye-rolling myself and all the tote bags they flog, but they have @durgapolashi‘s book and I cradle it all the way to the cashier (picking up a Springsteen postcard on the way). I’ve got some trendy coffee place all lined up from the app I downloaded, but there’s a Pret opposite Strand and suddenly its promise of home creeps like vines around me, pulls me across the street. The drenchingly familiar smell of the honey-maroon interior, the London-ness of it, so pervasive it is enough to wrench the heart of one who has never felt homesick in America. Honey where you been so long? The smell of a Pret branch is always penetrating yet light, almost cloying were it not for its irresistible lilts of health and colour. Pret smells of a soy cappuccino after a visit to an art gallery on a rainy afternoon, of a packet of dried mango slices on a long train journey, of fresh wood shavings. Pret smells of rainbows and falafel. Of rainbow falafel, if such a thing existed. Pret smells of the golden glow of getting home earlier than expected, and it smells of the  snack decisions you make quickly before a gig or a play. Pret smells of the gathered -aah- of a mid-shopping break, of puddles of spring rain, and sunshine condensed into planks of balsam and coffee stirrers. Pret smells of London on that first warm day some time in late April, and it smells of compromise - everybody likes Pret - and cucumbers and comfort. And when I smell Pret, in the middle of New York City with everybody I love on the wrong side of the ocean, the interior drenches me in all of this, the way a bellyflop drenches you, smack, and I almost have to walk out, except their iced coffee is half the price of the trendy places and I’m thirsty.  Then to Greenwich Village, again, to two more bookstores. I buy a screenplay about Robert Johnson that Greil Marcus recommended. I walk all the way to Trader Joe’s for hummus and salad, and catch the subway. Home, Mum calls. It’s late evening in London. Later Dad wanders in from a ukulele social, his ukelele strapped to his back. He is flush with the night warmth (the UK got a heatwave too) and he looks younger than I remember. It’s not a ukulele, actually, but a baby guitar, he informs me, and then they go to bed. My room is so warm that I re-watch Force Majeure, hoping its snow will cool me down somehow. 

On Thursday I wake up at ten and run four miles. Not in that quick a succession; waking up is a long ordeal for me. The fancy Flatbush streets are 100% dapple this time of year, like I accidentally wandered into a Monet, the sunlit negative spaces between leaves obscuring the details of houses and cars. Except for the middle-aged bearded man in bright green rollerblades. He gliding up and down the road, up and down. He looks like your average Brooklyn hipster dad freelance writer. Maybe his air conditioning broke down and this is the only place he can find cool. I run in a sports bra, feeling triumphant about patriarchy and my own pitiful self-esteem, until I remember that my as-yet-unexposed stomach is an entirely different shade to the rest of me. Cali-ombred. Post-run malaise upside down from my bed, and then the subway to Dumbo. When I come out of York Street station I’m a momentary meerkat again, lifted out into a tangle of bridges and intersections and buildings stacked against each other. I like the environment immediately. I join the tourist posers on Washington Street for the shot that repeats itself in squares on Instagram, and then I hunt down Brooklyn Roasting Company, and clutch cold brew along the water’s edge, taking the meandering path park, under the bridges. The other side of Brooklyn Bridge gets a bit too ‘boat tours and melted ice cream’ but just past that there’s grass and shade. I read, sat in the hulk of downtown New York, its presence comforting, like when I was fourteen and overjoyed just to be sitting in the same room as my crush - I’d never actually talk to him, of course. Later I continue walking along the water, until I can see the curving underside of the city, and New Jersey folded up into the horizon. Peach salsa, and ice cream, and how I miss my friends. 

Details from today: Chinese boy smoking on our doorstep, the city so ‘soft summer rain’ I want to take my shoes and socks off and find a Dodge and warm beer. Rushing in from the damp to Happy Bones. The woman next to me talks so loud about her ‘wellness tree���. And her bullet journal. The colour-coded charts she has drawn to reflect her mood, her food, her sleep. I turn a squawk-laugh into a barely disguised cough. How my book cover perfectly matches the coffee shop interior. Half a bagel in Washington Square Park (I’m broke and rationing/giving myself leeway before the glut of home food), and pigeons like a giant flag, and a march with a brass band. Finding Yayoi Kusama at the MoMA, and the static celebrity of Starry Night. The predictable characters of free Friday night entry: the young Spanish couple nervously trying to live up to their romantic getaway, the bemused stylish elderly couple, the parents arguing about what makes something art while their kids trail behind, the long-limbed girl pretending she doesn’t know how artily pretty she is, the middle-aged dad using the limb of his spectacles to read a long caption. Louise Lawler. ‘This will mean more to some of you than others’, and ‘Once there was a little boy and everything turned out alright. THE END’. All of my body pulled towards Rothko’s No.10 and Rauschenberg’s Glacier (Hoarfrost) and even Sheeler’s Bucks County Barn. Reductive abstraction, reductive geometry, my favourites. Heart-eyes in front of Agnes Martin. Her grids are clouds, pools, outdoor pools on days of light cloud. I could swim in them for hours. Steve McQueen, the room with the waterlilies. I flop in the sculpture garden, planning to read awhile - if I wasn't alone, we’d get beers probably, and fall into early-evening tipsiness - but I can't think about that. It rains anyway, and they close the garden.

[suzannebelairworld]

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204- Tropical time – Watercolour

205- Taj Mahal – Watercolour

206- Brooklyn bridge – Watercolour

207- Day 16- Pearl Major- Digital portrait

208- The Pantheon – Watercolour

209- Day 27- Monet – Digital portrait Comics trip style

210- Country road – Digital Painting

How was everyone’s week now that we face increasing evidence that Covid-19 is not going away anytime soon?

  Here, we are slowly but surely moving into fall, leaves already starting to turn and schools resuming. The new routines that have entered our lives are here to stay, everything being organized around sanitary measures that have now become part of our lifestyle and will remain so for years to come.

  As artists, we have the advantage of being able to keep on creating and ideas abound. Our writer’s group has resumed a few weeks ago. Meetings are held outside and limited to a maximum of 10 but renewing these face-to-face human encounters do us a world of good. As we are planning to move inside soon, we spend a lot of hours speculating about the number, the distance, the disinfection measures. Not many have a room big enough to accommodate 10 people that sit 6 ft apart. Some are afraid and just flatly refuse to move inside. But it is OK. Everybody does what they are comfortable with.

  When it comes to art, writing and painting, the only thing that can stop us from creating is our inner critic and opinions of others if we take them too much at heart. Everyone has an opinion about what you do. Some love and praise your work, some probably hate it. Some remain quiet while others comment and question your decisions. The one thing to remember is that you shouldn’t try to please everyone because it is impossible. It will only leave you unsatisfied and sad.

  When it comes to works in progress, I sometimes like to show where I am in a project but when we do this, we have to realize that others cannot envision where we want to bring our work. They see what is in front of them at that moment in time and then form an opinion on this. My husband will often tell me he thinks a painting is finished when I am still planning hours of work on it.

  Listening to opinions from others, you might get away from your own vision. If you want to create something that is uniquely yours, the best thing is to work and follow your idea. Trust yourself and follow your own path. Acknowledge the opinions, but don’t be driven by them.

  Exceptionally, you will get some constructive criticism that will move your work forward, bring you an Ahhh.. moment. But don’t worry, you will know when this happens.

  This week, I am presenting the drawings for the thirtieth week of daily sketching, continuing travel theme in watercolour and digital portraits. These were fun to do and I finally finished Ms. Pearl Major, probably spent over 10 hours on this one!

  Have a great week, take care of yourself, stay healthy and open your heart to your own creative energy!

  With Love

  Suzanne

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Web site Suzanne Bélair

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Enviroart par Suzanne Bélair

  Shortlink: https://wp.me/p9FGQ-GK

Listening to opinions from others, good or bad?- Daily drawing- Week 30 How was everyone’s week now that we face increasing evidence that Covid-19 is not going away anytime soon?

[zhumeimv]

New Movies Coming Out in November 2019 Movieclips Trailers

New Movies Coming Out in November 2019 Movieclips Trailers

Date: 2019-10-30 15:00:12

[aoa id=’0′][dn_wp_yt_youtube_source type=”101″ id=”X5m5FbZLvZs”][/aoa]

Here are the top trailers for movies coming out in November 2019! What will you go see? Watch All the Best New Trailers from November 2019:

00:00 Harriet 02:26 Terminator: Dark Fate 04:55 Motherless Brooklyn 07:29 Arctic Dogs 09:24 Playing with Fire 11:37 Last Christmas 14:35 Midway 16:59 Doctor Sleep