#Tree Cutting Brooklyn Park

[squoxle]

Hiiii sisisssyysysyys! I was wondering if you do a hee ff and it’s just y/n and him. I want the plot to be like a late night of the streets in nyc. And you can do whatever you want 😊

Girl 😩 I apologize in advance if the story is kinda wonky…I really wanted to make this for u ASAP…but I’ve just been sooooo busy 😭❤️ anywayzzz I hope u like it

❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬❞ ~ 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

•♥☙♡ ʚɞ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʜᴇᴇ𝖲ᴇᴜɴɢ!ʙᴇ𝖲ᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ 𝖷 ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ғᴍ | ʚɞ ᴡᴄ: 𝟫𝟨𝟢 | ʚɞ 𝖲ᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇ𝖲ᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғᴇ𝖲𝖲ᴇ𝖲 ʜɪ𝖲 ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ 𝖲ᴋʏ | ʚɞ ᴄᴡ: ᴀɴɢ𝖲ᴛ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴍɪɴᴏʀ 𝖲ᴍᴜᴛ (ᴀ.ᴋ.ᴀ. ᴋɪ𝖲𝖲ɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ 𝖲ʟɪɢʜᴛ ғᴏɴᴅʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ) ♡❧♥•

Heeseung held your gaze as if he were frozen in time and space. The sexual tension burned like firey flames from your hearts. But nothing could have prepared you for this moment.

The moment when his delicate lips would meet yours.

The moment your lives would change forever...

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓎...

Heeseung had called you the night before to make plans for today.

"There's something I want to talk to you about," he whispered softly, "In person..." his words trailed off.

What could be so important that he couldn't just tell you over the phone. Heeseung rarely blew things out of proportion, which left you curious. Wondering what he wanted to talk about.

Somehow you managed to tuck your curiosity away in the deepest part of your mind for the majority of the day as the two of you hung out together. Though you couldn't deny the fact that he had done a great job keeping you distracted.

"Hey, what do you think about this?" he giggled as he turned around to show you a pair of oversized glasses.

"I think you look like a clown," you chuckled back, watching as a bright smile grew across his face.

"Him, you're right. Maybe they'd look better on you," he said as he walked closer to you, placing the glasses on your face. His expression softened as you adjusted the glasses yourself.

"I probably look even dumber than you," you scoffed lightly, pulling your lips into a slight smirk. You watched as Heeseung's eyes followed your movements. "Uhh..." you started, cutting through the silence. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just a little hungry. How about we go get something to eat?" He asked.

"Sure, what're you in the mood for?"

"Pizza?"

"Wow! I'm surprised you didn't say ramen," you said in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

"Well, I only like it when I make it," he smiled. "It's not like I can really make my own pizza," he chuckled as the two of you walked off.

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔...

After sunset, you and Heeseung walked across Brooklyn Bridge. You loved how it lit up at night, the lights mimicking the stars in the sky that were harder to see out here.

Heeseung knew how much you loved stargazing, but couldn't do it anymore after relocating to such a big city. The sense of longing washed over you as you walked across the metallic structure.

"What?" you asked as you felt Heeseung's gaze on you.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about something."

"Does it have anything to do with that thing you wanted to tell me last night?" your question hung in the air for a bit before Heeseung let out a sigh.

"Uhh...yeah, but I'd rather talk about it in private," he said as the two of continued your walk across the bridge before entering Cadman Plaza Park.

The air was cool and moist, and the streetlights highlighted small puddles of water that pooled near the botanical arrangements. At this point, you had just noticed that Heeseung was holding your hand.

You walked with him under a set of trees, away from the other few people who were also enjoying a night walk in New York.

You lied down in the grass next to Heeseung as you peaked through the tree branches to see the night sky bleeding through.

"____..."

"Yeah?"

"You know that thing I wanted to tell you?" He rolled onto his side to face you, propping his body up on his elbow.

You waited patiently for him to speak, as you could see his shy side coming out. He bit his lip softly before continuing.

"I-I don't want this to ruin our friendship or anything, but," he paused, playing with the grass between his fingers. "I really like you...and I have for a long time."

To be honest, you had liked Heeseung from the beginning, but you settled for a friendship rather than a relationship and you still didn’t know why.

He looked embarrassed as hell. You took a little too long to respond, leaving an uncomfortable amount of silence in the atmosphere.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just forget I said anything,” he continued before lying down on his back, closing his eyes after taking a deep breath.

A thought crossed your mind and you weren’t gonna be stupid enough to let it pass by. You leaned over to kiss Heeseung’s lips.

His cheeks were slightly red his doe eyes jumped open when you placed your hand on his chest. “I like you too, and I have for a long time now,” you smiled.

His lips formed into a smile as he pulled your face into his, kissing you again. You straddled his body as he gripped onto your waist, pulling your body closer to his. You slowly rocked back and forth, feeling him grow harder beneath you.

Though you had just started, the sexual tension was strong now and your movements excited him. It was obvious by the way he sat up and breathlessly gasped for your touch.

Your tongues intertwining as he moved down to your neck. “Maybe we should continue this somewhere else,” he chuckled softly against the wetness on your neck as you reached to palm his bulge.

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” you said looking at his flushed face and ruffled hair. “Would it be weird if I said you look hotter with your hair like this,” you smirked.

“Not weird, but definitely enticing. Makes me wonder what you would look like all flustered and messy,” he said before kissing your lips again.

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹…

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @hynjinnn1 @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

[shadyfestivalperfection]

The Sketchbook-“In Another Life I Knew You”

Part 2/Epilogue of ‘The Girl Who Looked Like Home’

Summery: Steve meets the reincarnated Y/n again after his encounter at Y/n’s grave

Characters: Steve Rogers x f!reader

||Master list|| ||Part 1: The Girl Who Looked Like Home||

N/n- Use Any Other name you like or your nickname/middle name (don’t worry N/n and Y/n are the same person but N/n is just the reincarnated Y/n)

Avengers Tower, present day

The sky was overcast, the kind of pale gray that made the world feel paused. Outside, the city hummed in soft motion, but inside Avengers Tower, Steve Rogers stood by the window with his arms folded and his thoughts elsewhere.

He had just returned from his visit to Y/N’s grave — the same one he made every year since Venus handed him that box of letters.

It never got easier.

He had read every single one. Cried through them. Laughed at her wit. Whispered apologies into the night when no one was listening. And now, even decades after her death, even after Natasha had sat beside him and read her final letter with him, there was still a piece of him that ached.

He wasn’t sure if it would ever stop aching.

“Yo, Rogers,” came a voice from behind him. “Still brooding?”

Steve turned slightly. “Morning, Sam.”

“You know it’s two in the afternoon, right?”

“Same difference,” Steve muttered.

Sam stepped into the room with two coffees in hand and handed one to Steve. “Alright. I’m calling it. You’re officially cut off from moody windowsill reflections.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “And who made you the emotional health authority?”

“I did. And Dr. Phil. Don’t make me bring in Oprah.” Sam handed him a small flyer. “There’s an art gallery show in Brooklyn tomorrow night. You’re coming.”

Steve took the flyer reluctantly. “Sam, I don’t really—”

“Don’t care,” Sam said, already walking toward the door. “It’s a small local thing. You like old-school art, right? You sketch, remember? It might give you some peace. Or, at the very least, get your ass out of this tower before your brooding infects the rest of us.”

Steve stared down at the flyer.

Featured Artist: N/n Marshal — “Echoes of Memory”

Location: The Willow Room Art Gallery

He didn’t recognize the name. But something about the title — Echoes of Memory — stuck with him. He didn’t say yes, but he also didn’t say no.

The next night, he found himself outside the little brick building tucked away on a quiet street near Prospect Park.

⸻

(The Gallery)

The sign above the door was modest, almost hidden under a vine-covered awning: The Willow Room. Warm yellow lights shone through the windows, giving the space a gentle glow that spilled onto the sidewalk. Steve stood outside for a moment before finally stepping inside.

The scent of charcoal, old paper, and lavender oil wrapped around him immediately. He blinked at the soft ambient music and the quiet murmurs of a few scattered patrons.

And then he saw the sketches.

The first one stopped him cold — a drawing of two figures dancing in a 1940s kitchen. The detail was precise: the woman’s laughter mid-motion, the man’s uniform slightly wrinkled, his fingers barely brushing her back. It was… him. And Y/N.

His breath caught.

He moved to the next.

A portrait of a soldier sitting beneath a willow tree, his head in his hands. The lines were heavy, the expression filled with grief. His grief.

Steve blinked hard. These weren’t just vintage-style pieces. These were memories.

“Can I help you?”

The voice made him turn.

There she was.

Y/n.(N/n)

She wore a long, cream-colored sweater splattered with charcoal dust, sleeves pushed to her elbows. Her eyes met his, and everything fell away. For a moment, he was back in 1943, watching Y/N lean against his shoulder, laughing at a joke only he could hear.

“I—” he started, his throat tight. “Hi.”

N/n smiled. “You alright?”

“I… know this is strange,” Steve said slowly. “But some of these pieces… I feel like I’ve seen them before.”

Her brow furrowed. “Yeah? That’s what a lot of people say. Kind of spooky, right? I call it ‘collective nostalgia’.”

He smiled faintly. “Is that what inspired the show’s title?”

“‘Echoes of Memory’? Yeah. I’ve had these recurring images in my head since I was a kid. Dreams, feelings, even words sometimes. I never really understood them, but… they stayed.” She paused, cocking her head slightly. “Wait, do I know you?”

“I don’t think so.” He swallowed. “But… I think I knew someone who looked like you.”

Her eyes searched his. “What was her name?”

“Y/N.”

Something shifted in her face. Not recognition — not yet. But something. A tension behind her eyes. “That name… it gives me goosebumps sometimes,” she admitted. “I don’t know why.”

Steve smiled softly. “Can I show you something?”

She nodded.

He pulled out his phone and brought up a photo of one of the letters. The signature was unmistakable.

All my love, always — Y/N.

N/n stared at it, her lips parting.

“I’ve signed notes like that before,” she whispered. “Without thinking.”

Steve looked at her gently. “I don’t think you’re a stranger to me, N/n.”

She exhaled. “Why does it feel like I’ve been waiting for you to say that my whole life?”

⸻

They sat in the back corner of the gallery after hours, sipping lukewarm tea and talking. Steve told her about the war — not all the details, but enough to explain the loss, the time, the frozen years. He told her about the box of letters. About Y/N’s grave. About the final letter she wrote before she died.

“You don’t have to believe in reincarnation,” he said carefully. “But I think… Y/N did. She wrote in her final letter that when I find someone someday, that someone would be her again. In another life. In another name.”

N/n looked down at her cup. “When I was little, I used to write letters to a man named Steve. I didn’t know why. I told my mom it was for my dreams. She just thought I was playing pretend.”

She hesitated, then reached into her bag and pulled out a sketchbook. It was battered, the pages stained from years of use. She flipped it open and showed him a charcoal sketch.

It was him.

Not just a soldier. Him.

Wearing the same sweater he wore the day he proposed to Y/N.

Steve touched the page with trembling fingers.

N/n said softly, “I don’t know how I drew you before I ever met you.”

“Because you did know me,” Steve whispered. “Once. A long time ago.”

⸻

Weeks passed.

They began to meet regularly. They walked through the park, sat in bookstores, shared stories that felt like old echoes. It was never rushed. There was no need.

On a warm May morning, they went to the cemetery together.

Steve brought a violet. N/n held his hand the whole walk there.

They stopped at the grave under the willow tree. The inscription still took N/n’s breath away.

Y/N L/N

1920–1990

“Write me a letter when you miss me, and I’ll find you again.” (I changed the inscription so it would suit the epilogue)

N/n whispered, “Did I really write that?”

“I think you did,” Steve said. “And I think you found your way back to me.”

She crouched beside the grave, fingers grazing the engraved letters. “Thank you for waiting.”

Steve smiled through the tears rising in his eyes.

⸻

(One Year Later)

They returned to the gallery — this time together, hand in hand. A new collection of art was on display: soft watercolors of first glances, reunited souls, long walks under moonlight, and two figures beneath a willow tree.

The name on the wall read: N/n Marshal – “Home Again.”

Steve opened a notebook that rested on a stand beside her art. The first page was a letter.

Dear Steve,

I found you. Just like I said I would.

-the end

[little-pup-pip]

i remember u posting a thing where it shows all the requests you haven't done yet. I just want to see as I requested something long ago in 2023. I'm not trying to seem pushy, I'm just curious!

(this was rhe person that requested a bugbo thing)

Here you go!! This is very long, so I put the list under the cut!

These are the requests sent after I stopped accepting them that I didn't delete for various reasons. If you sent in a request after I closed them on March 14th and don't see it here, you'll need to send a new one (please don't take it personally if I deleted it)!!

Black + squirrel

Asra (the arcana)

Shurara (keroro gunsou)

Ring tailed lemur

Buzz light-year

Rottweiler

Yellow raccoon petre

Lionel Messi

Sonic the hedgehog

Light pink and blue bunnies

Middle school gym class

Jenny wakeman (my life as a teenage robot)

Chris Kratt (wild Kratts)

Yuri (doki doki literature club)

Cole (Lego Ninjago)

Crowley (good omens)

Stingray

Prince + bunnies

CG vil (twisted wonderland)

Alt + Wolf-dog

Golden retriever

Hobbes (Calvin and Hobbes)

Kipo (kipo and the age of wonderbeasts, I think)

Leif (my inner demons)

Little big planet 3

Clouds + pastel blue

Outdoorsy + animals

Sun and stars + bunnies

Chase (paw patrol, I actually have two of these waiting)

Cinnamoroll

Eastern red bat

Octopus regression

Tiger CG

Aquarium trip

Pastel coloring + kitties

lavender/grey bunnies

Pastel dolls

Jumping spiders/Leopard geckos

Dr. animo (ben 10)

Shuichi saihara

Black Shiba inu

This is everything left from before I closed my requests!

Osamu dazai (bsd)

Flutist

The dazzlings (equestria girls)

Vampire with Halloween themes

Guardians of ga'hoole

Gromsko (MW2/3)

V (murder drones)

Cg SD-N (murder drones)

Cassidy (overwatch) and cowboys

TMNT Leonardo

Ranboo

Pastel kitty

Lackadaisy

Epithet erased

Another OC named cerys

Pikmin

Slay the princess

Someone's pictures (Idk what to call this one just know that I'm going to do it)

The Magnus protocol

Bive (regretavator)

Donnie darko

Megamind

Jake Peralta (Brooklyn nine nine)

Allister (pokemon)

Umi (idk from where I'll figure it out eventually)

Rottweiler puppy and the creek

Monster tom (eddsworld)

Gnarpy (regretavator)

Xianzhao loufu (hsr)

Cg jing yuan (hsr)

Cupcake and dino

Kitty petre pomni (tadc)

Shiromo (pui pui molcar)

Jack harkness (doctor who)

Pettoism

Cg basil hallward (the picture of Dorian gray)

Cats

Spiderman (again! lol)

Mei (Lego monkie kid)

Cats + cakes

Houndoom (pokemon)

Wolfwalkers from cartoon saloon

Lucifer (hazbin hotel)

Critterspace (drafts)

Minecraft lush caves (drafts)

Ibara saegusa

Llewellyn Watts (Murdoch Mysteries)

Jake (trailer park warlock, drafts)

Cult of the lamb (pet dreaming themed)

Tubbo

Cassie (fnaf: ruin)

Black kitten + space

Grey draik (neopets)

Pumpkin head (still needs more research)

Someone's OC Avery & siblings

Maki harukawa

Brown, lime green and forest green puppy

Dylan (the magic roundabout)

Zombies

Vincent (dead plate)

Osamu dazai (bungo stray dogs, drafts)

Vision CG (marvel, drafts)

Light blue

Bearded vulture

Mind (Chonny Jash/CCCC)

Seam CG (deltarune)

John Constantine (Justice League Dark)

Keralis (Hermitcraft, maybe)

Tula tones (novi stars, drafts)

Eevee + dragons (or witchy themes which I may do instead)

Kitten + stars (I think, the request actually says stairs though and it's been confusing me)

Mushrooms

Grey + Ross federman youtooz (drafts)

Boyfriend.xml (Friday night funkin')

Puppet (fnaf)

Genshin impact (drafts)

Eddsworld

Karako Pierot (hiveswap)

Scorpion

Border Collie

Mortal Kombat

Puppy + SpongeBob (drafts)

Baby vulture (drafts)

Rain world/slugcat (drafts)

Border Collie

Modded smash hit rooms

Crying child (fnaf)

Agent Smith CG (the matrix)

Rolfe DeWolfe CG (Rockafire Explosion)

Slime rancher

Puppet (fnaf)

Parado (Kamen Rider)

Tally hall

Rockabilly (probably)

Felix Lee

Charles Xavier CG (X-Men)

Naoto Shirogane (persona 4, drafts)

Kitoto

17th century dutch (drafts)

Sees behind trees (drafts)

Allay (Minecraft, I think. Drafts)

Tasmanian devil (drafts, can't figure out if they want the cartoon or animal)

Spamton CG (deltarune, drafts)

Grunge + lop eared bunnies (drafts)

Yume-Nikki (drafts)

Daxter (jak and daxter, drafts)

Madness combat for puppies (drafts)

James Sunderland (silent Hill, drafts)

Shirokuma (Danganronpa, drafts)

Leo (IDW comic, drafts)

[foxes-that-run]

Harry Styles and Taylor Russell (Tarry) timeline

2023

12-17 June - Taylor Russell at one of Harry's Wembley dates, we don't know which. The photos were provided of her sitting with Jeff, Xander and Jacquelyn on 19 January 2024

24 June - Taylor Russell and Harry leaving art gallery in London.

6 July - Taylor Russell seen walking with Harry and in the Vienna HSLOT show in VIP tent.

8 July - Taylor Russell and Travis Kelce spotted at Harry and Taylors concerts respectively. ….on the same day.

11 July Harry and TR by a hotel pool and Barcelona airport

23 July - With Brad at Love on Tour

10 August - 1989 TV announced and Harry goes to Taylor Russell's play on the same day, 9 August in US. Gemma and her partner there

25 August - they walked all the time in London

28 August - Harry attends Taylor Russells play more on closing night 7 October,

7 September - They passed Sigel Rides walking Root... Taylor Russells dog who disappeared as quickly as it appeared when she went to NY.

13 September - H seen near TRs play

27 September - They were seen riding Lime Bikes then while Walking TR reached for Harry's hand and he switched the side he was holding his coffee.

29 September - Harry and his dad at Taylor Russells play. TR went to Fashion week and wore a weird metal coat. Harry stayed in London. A story that he drove to pick her up from the Train Station and got a parking ticket.. except there were no photos and (as at June 2024) he has not been seen driving since December 2022. "An onlooker told The Sun on Sunday's Bizarre column: "Harry quickly parked up on the double yellows. You could tell he didn’t want to be late for Taylor after her long train journey so he quickly dashed into the station.""

8 October - Harry at the after part of the Effect in London

23 Oct - video of HS & TR in cafe.

3 November - Harry in Vancouver with TR, head covered. Left a note for a restaurant they visited and ate donuts on a dock.

9 November - Video of Harry’s buzz cut from 8 days earlier posted during U2 concert, same day it is reported TK will go to the Eras tour.

1 December - Deux Moi reports that Harry and TR are expecting, Taylor and Joe had a ceremony. Tree ends Deux.

2 December - Harry and TR rumoured split. Article deleted the next day possibly as it identifies TRs hotel

3 December Daily Mail reports TR and HS are in crisis then takes the article down.

11 December - distant photo of Harry and Taylor Russell in Italy from the 7th posted to HS news. Rumored to have been in Italy for weeks with Alessandro Michelle

26 December - Harry seen with TR at a pond in England wearing only underpants and a Eagles beanie

2024

3 January - Harry in the Caribbean with TR.

17 January - Deux Moi H LA 6 - 16 January

19 January - a photo of TR with Jeff at LOT Wembley last June.

20 January - Joe, TR and Zayn at Loewe show at Paris FW, some guy gives TR a neck rub.

26 January - Harry and TR seen in London Together, again riding bikes and dinner.

14 February - Blind item that TR is calling paps, they are then not seen together again for a month.

3 March - TR play opens in NY, Harry doesn’t go. He was in L.A.

8 March - Harry back in London, TRs play was on from 3-31 in NY, Harry did not attend. Pleasing ‘Single at last’.

14 March - Harry backstage at Mitch’s show in NY!! TRs play was on 10 mins away, she came after, arriving at 9:30/10, they left before encore with TR look to be arguing. TR did not attend Mitches show, her play was on. A photo leaked of Harry at the start of the show and TR came before it ended. Harry left with her, a crowd yelled her name and it looked like they argues in the car. Harry was walking alone an hour later. First time seen in a month.

15 March -Harry walking around NY with TR and separately with Maxwell Ritz. And at the white cube gallery.

17 March - Harry in Brooklyn at townhouse with TR with bag, last sighting for another month. Fashion spread about it.

19 March - Harry returns to London. TRs play on till 31, did not go

26 March - TR VF article where she says “My work is the most interesting thing to me, so that’s what I’ll say about that.” And talks about finding safety for herself, in August she talked about safety within a relationship.

1 April - TR Columbia

15 April - Harry & TR Japan sighting. 

19 April - TTPD, Harry seen in Japan.

20 April - Harry seen in Japan with TR, TR seen at airport on 24th last TR sighting w H. Later reports broke up then.

29 April - Harry seen in London

6 May - Harry on a lime bike London not with TR at met gala.

14 May - Deux Moi reports Tarry ended

15 May- Harry at Kacey Musgrave concert alone

19 May Harry and TR broke up last month: Sun & Mirror

20 May - tarry break up picked widely, rumor Harry in Italy

21 May - Harry seen in Italy.

23 May - Harry went kitchenware shopping in Rome wearing a Blur ‘modern life is rubbish’ he also wore in 2014.

[apexart-journal]

Anna Louise Richardson in NYC, Day #13 & 14

Time for a catch up on the weekends activities as I shirked my writing duties in favour of reading novels. I am determined not to bring home the growing collection of unread books as extra luggage. On Saturday morning I headed to the bronx to garden and tidy up a park as a volunteer for an organisation called New York Cares. There were about 50 people there including kids and lots of teenagers and we were divided into groups for weeding, mulching, pruning and rubbish pick up. I was in the tree care group whose task was to cut down large invasive mulberry trees with handsaws! then cutting up the pieces with loppers. I did this for a while but moved on to weeding as my dicky shoulder was getting sore from sawing for an hour. Weeding turned out to be pulling out invasive mugwort and mulching it by snapping the pieces by hand into little bits and spreading them on wood chips. The volunteer effort was impressive and well meaning but I couldn't help feeling frustrated that the job could much more efficiently and safely be done with a chainsaw and a slasher and then volunteers coming in to much, clean up, plant and make more of an impact this way. There is such a large area of invasive weeds in just this one park and they will re-sprout come summer. I struggle with inefficiency.

I went back to the apartment via a delicious bagel from Tompkins Square Bagels: smoked salmon, cream cheese, tomato, capers. Yum!

My afternoon activity was to go to a Death Cafe event at the New York Public Library. I have been meaning to attend a Death Cafe for a few years now, funny that it took me till now in NYC to do it, so I was very curious about this event. There were about 20 people and the discussion ranged from terminology, books and movies about death, paranormal investigation, stoicism, being a collection of virtues and experiences we leave on others, to Keanu Reeves' quote from an interview where the host asked him "what do you think happens when we die?", his reply "I know that the ones who love us will miss us." Many people in the room had experienced so much loss, and I thought it was very generous of them to show up so openly for an unknown discussion. The recommendations: Dmitri Shostakovich Symphony No. 14, Ikiru (1952), If cats disappeared from the world - Genki Kawamura.

I had planned to go to the movies in the evening but realised I had missed an event on my calendar: a recent recording of a 1912 play called Hindle Wakes by the Mint Theatre Company. I started watching it and found it very slow so I went and bought a bottle of wine (and got distracted by another multilevel bookshop) made some meaty pasta then settled down to watch it. I actually enjoyed it in the end as it is a clever and poignant discussion on morality, hypocrisy and feminism. When Hindle Wakes premiered in London in 1912, it sparked moral outrage with many newspapers weighing in on the plays controversial subject matter - the result, good publicity for the play!

Sunday.

It was foggy and cool today. I got up early to head to Brooklyn for a Quaker Meeting. The first thing that struck me was that the meeting house was arranged so that all the pews faced inwards towards each other and there was no central speaking place. There were about 10 other people in the room and we sat in complete silence for an hour. This was probably my most favourite religious experience, and the most contemplative. I also think I fell asleep at one point. At the end you could feel the energy in the room shift, the people start to shuffle their feet and move, then one of the older men got up turned to his neighbour and shook their hand saying "good morning". I shook hands with the people around me said good morning and left. It made me realise how much I miss touch. Not having my kids and my love I have had so little touch in the last 2 weeks, those warm handshakes were a solace. The rest of the day was about sports! I went to an indoor volleyball class, which I was hesitant about as it was one of those soupy indoor gym spaces with sand and many sweaty bare feet but no beach in sight, but in the end I had fun and learnt a lot about the game. It's much harder than it looks and the ball hits hard on your forearms. I enjoyed the simple fun of catching and throwing a ball with another person.

I then went to meet with artist and friend of Apexart LuLu Meng and we caught the bus to Staten Island Fencing Club. Kate and Dave the coaches there were so generous, welcoming and knowledgable we learnt footwork (which feels very odd as you can only move straight forward and backwards with a kind of half crab position), and after practicing on a chair we were suited up, given a sabre and got to fence each other! After getting over the initial shock of actually trying to slash someone and vice versa it was fun. The blade sounds very loud inside the helmets. I can see how you could get very into the sport and the adrenaline is real! I did not like wearing the suits though and felt trussed up like a roast chook.

[tessabennet]

please please please, the people (me) want to know more about the barnes’!! the characters and their stories overall are one of my fav parts about the series. i’m dying to talk about them and glad to hear anything you have to say about them

Well, who am I do deny the people what they're asking for 😅 How about I tell you about the youngest of the og Barnes'? I'll put some stuff under a cut. Thanks so much for the ask!

(Also, another thing I'll put under the cut is a picture of the Barnes' family tree I made years ago lol)

So this is about Bonnie Barnes. She's the youngest daughter of George and Winnie Barnes. She was born in February 1925. As the youngest of the family, everyone - and especially Bucky and George - dote on her when she's growing up. She's left handed and takes a lot after her dad in facial features. She's taller than either of her sisters.

During WW2, in 1942, she starts working at a munition factory. Later, in 1945, she starts helping out at the family garage because they're short-staffed. After that, when things kinda go back to normal after the war, she trains to be a nurse at the hospital Sarah Rogers worked at. Throughout the 50s, with her sisters founding their own families, she becomes pretty independent, earning her own money and living in an apartment in Park Slope all by herself.

She spends most of the 50s making up for the "normal" youth experiences she didn't get because of the war. In 1959, though, she has to get married because she got pregnant. Her husband's name is Winston O'Connor, a doctor at the hospital she also works at. Their son's name is Brennan. Bonnie becomes a housewife after the marriage. She's the whole family's favourite babysitter, first for her sisters and then for her nieces. Both Brennan and Bonnie are big astronomy and sci-fi nerds, fans of Start Trek, Doctor Who, and Star Wars from the very start, and regular visitors at the Hayden Planetarium. Bonnie is also the one who inherited Bucky's collection of pulps and comics.

In 1978, she and Winston get divorced after Bonnie finds out Winston's been cheating on her for years. She takes back her maiden name and starts working as a nurse again. Brennan goes to college in Michigan, to study medicine because his dad pressured him to become a doctor too. Bonnie meets a new man - Matteo, a chef from Crown Heights - in the late 1980s. They move together but never get married.

Brennan moves back to New York in the early 90s, where he becomes a pediatrician at Maimonides Children's Hospital. He never gets married and doesn't have children, but he's very close to his cousins, especially Bernie Rosenthal. Bonnie dies of a stroke in 2002. Brennan still lives in Brooklyn and, in 2017, meets Bucky in Wakanda for his 100th birthday.

Hope you like it! Thanks again for the ask, I love digging up these old notes I made when I was still writing the series 🥹

And as promised, the family tree! The quality of the picture is bad (sorry, couldn't figure out how to make it better) but I hope you can still read enough of it to tell me if you want to know more about some other people :)

[urban-living-discounts]

NYC Neighborhood Highlight: Bushwick, Brooklyn

The month of August is slowly approaching its sunset, let’s finish off the month with another aspiring neighborhood that could be your forever home.

This week we're plunging headfirst into Bushwick – Brooklyn's chameleon neighborhood. What is it exactly? A pulsating, respiring art gallery? A beer aficionado's utopía? Let’s find out.

Bushwick Overview

Picture this: On one street corner, an old building that has weathered more history than your grandma's photo album. Next door? A coffee shop so nascent, the paint still emanates fumes. 

That's Bushwick for you – a place where yesterday and tomorrow are entangled close together.

Not long ago, this neighborhood pulsated with hard work and factory horns. Now? It magnetizes anyone who's ever ogled a paintbrush and mused, "I could make out a living with that." with its street art.

Echoes of its industrial roots linger on in its architecture, with many old factories and warehouses converted into lofts, studios, and art spaces.

Bushwick Rent and Real Estate Prices

Bushwick’s real estate market has seen a big growth in recent years, making it an attractive option for both renters and buyers.

Prices are skyrocketing faster than a feline scaling a tree, but they haven't yet breached the stratosphere... yet.

Rentals: Yearning to christen Bushwick your domicile? Brace yourself to disgorge about $2,500 per lunar cycle for a one-bedroom abode. 

But here's the twist – that price tag ricochets more vigorously than a tyke in the throes of a sugar rush, contingent on your proximity to the L train (alias the Cool Express). 

Sales: Contemplating purchasing in this neighborhood?The median sales price for a home in Bushwick is approximately $800,000.

That could secure you anything from a dwelling that predates sliced bread to a gleaming new apartment bristling with more gadgetry than a spy's arsenal.

Why are investors circling Bushwick? Two words: untapped potential. It’s like witnessing a caterpillar slowly turn into a butterfly with tattoos and knows how to mix a mean cocktail.

Best Things to Do in Bushwick

Ever wondered what happens when you toss art, nightlife, and a dash of Brooklyn magic into a blender? You get Bushwick - a neighborhood that doesn't just come alive, it practically jumps off the map and dances on your doorstep.

Explore Street Art: A visit to the Bushwick Collective is a must. This outdoor gallery features murals from artists all over the world, turning the neighborhood’s streets into an open-air museum.

Visit Breweries and Distilleries: Fancy imbibing whiskey where people once punched timecards? Kings County Distillery has got your back. 

Check Out the Local Art Galleries: Signal Gallery and Transmitter are just two of the many spaces showcasing cutting-edge contemporary art. These galleries are also home to emerging artists.

Relax in Maria Hernandez Park: Feeling a bit overwhelmed? No worries! Maria Hernandez Park lies at the heart of Bushwick. It's where the neighborhood comes to catch its breath, spread out a blanket for a picnic, and remember that grass isn't just something hipsters use to decorate their lattes.

So, is Bushwick the crown jewel of NYC neighborhoods? Well, that's like asking if pizza is the king of foods – it all depends on your taste buds. 

But here's the deal: if you're hunting for a slice of Brooklyn life that's equal parts gritty and pretty, with a side of the unexpected, Bushwick's serving it up 24/7.

Ready to explore more of NYC's neighborhood buffet? Let's chat! We can whip up an adventure that'll make your feet tired, your camera full, and your stories legendary.

Let’s connect so we can get started on your search for deals to add to your portfolio. Call me at 917-627-5677 or send an email to ehaliva@elliman.com. 

Talk soon, 

Eli

[masterroofers]

Easy Roof Care for Brooklyn and Queens Homes: Keeping It Simple and Safe

Hey Brooklyn and Queens! Your roof is your home's first line of defense against the weather, but it doesn't have to be a headache to keep it in shape. Let's break down some straightforward tips for maintaining your roof and when to call in the pros for a little extra help.

Why Care About Your Roof?

Just like wearing a hat on a sunny day protects your head, taking care of your roof protects your entire home. Here's why you should keep your roof in good health:

Avoid Water Damage: Little leaks can become big problems fast, leading to costly repairs inside your home.

Save on Bills: A roof in good condition helps keep your home's temperature steady, cutting down on heating and cooling costs.

Boost Your Home’s Worth: Whether selling soon or in the future, a well-maintained roof adds curb appeal and value to your home.

Keep Everyone Safe: A damaged roof can be a hazard. Regular care helps keep everyone under your roof safe and sound.

Simple Steps to Maintain Your Roof

Taking care of your roof doesn’t have to be complicated. Here are some easy ways to help keep your roof in great shape:

Regular Checks: Take a walk around your house now and then, especially after big storms. Look up at your roof and check for missing shingles or other visible damage.

Clean Those Gutters: Full gutters can cause water to pool and damage your roof. Cleaning them out in the spring and fall can help keep things flowing smoothly.

Trim Overhanging Branches: Branches that hang over your roof can scrape against it and drop leaves that build up. Keeping trees trimmed back can prevent damage and reduce debris.

Keep an Eye on Moss: Moss might look quaint, but it can hold moisture against the roof, damaging materials over time. If you spot moss, it might be time for a closer look or a clean-up.

When to Call the Professionals

Sometimes, you need to bring in the experts. Here’s when to call a professional roofing contractor:

Significant Damage: If you see multiple areas of damage or large patches of missing shingles, it’s time for a pro.

After Severe Weather: If there’s been severe weather, even if everything seems okay, a professional can make sure there’s no hidden damage.

Safe Access: Roofs can be dangerous places. If you’re unsure or it’s unsafe to check something yourself, better to call in someone with the right tools and experience.

Why Trust Us for Your Roof Repairs?

Need a hand with your roof in Brooklyn or Queens? Here's why we're the right call:

Local Knowledge: We're familiar with the weather challenges and roofing styles in Brooklyn and Queens.

Straight Talk: We explain what needs doing and why in clear, simple language.

Quick and Reliable: We’re known for being on time and thorough, so you can get back to enjoying your home without worry.

Keep Your Home Covered, Comfortably

Remember, your roof is crucial, but taking care of it doesn't have to be stressful. With a little regular maintenance and help from knowledgeable pros when needed, you can protect your home easily and effectively.

If you’re noticing signs of wear on your roof or just want peace of mind that everything’s okay up there, give us a call. We’re ready to help keep your roof strong and secure!

Find Master Roofers on Google Map and Cities mentioned Below:

Master Roofers

Address: 7826 Parsons Blvd, Queens, NY 11366, United States

Contact Number: +17189570313

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[mauvaisxander]

Fanmix Stats

So I have put all my old tumblr fanmixes on Spotify, and categorizing them. I will be reposting Spotify links here, and I want to start making new ones so if anyone has any requests, please let me know!

I am gonna put some stats under the cut, bc I doubt anyone else is interested lol.

My first fanmix was posted on 08/02/12

I have 324 unique playlists. I did merge all fanmixes about the same subject into one playlist.

My character with the most songs was Theon Greyjoy with 69 songs (nice)

My ship with the most songs was Garak/Bashir with 117 songs

Fanmix Focuses

I had 14 mixes that focused on a piece of media as a whole

Platonic relationships - 14

Single character focused - 97

Of those 59 were for a female character and 38 for a male character.

By far the majority of mixes I made were focused on a romantic relationship 193 in total.

Out of those 29 were F/F ships, 45 were M/M ships, 9 were poly ships, 1 was a NB/F ship, and 109 were M/F ships.

I also categorized them by how I feel about them, and 2 were hated ships, 7 were disliked ships, 33 ships I feel neutral about, 69 (nice) I like, and 82 I consider OTPs

Fandoms

One mix

There were 34 fandoms that had one mix

Two mixes

A Tree Grows In Brooklyn

Community

Durarara

iZombie

Kill La Kill

King Falls AM

Mass Effect

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries

Parks And Recreation

William Shakespeare

Star Trek: Enterprise

That 70's Show

The Newsroom

Welcome To Night Vale

Three mixes

Bully

Cinderella Phenomenon

Downton Abbey

Marvel Netflix

Orange Is The New Black

Psycho-Pass

Star Trek: The Original Series

The Office

The West Wing

Four mixes

Person Of Interest

Princess Tutu

Shadowhunters

Star Trek: Discovery

Five mixes

Firefly

How I Met Your Mother

Six mixes

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

Neon Genesis Evangelion

Revolutionary Girl Utena

Star Trek: The Next Generation

Seven mixes

Playchoices

Shameless

Eight mixes

Agents Of SHIELD

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Nine mixes

Les Miserables

Ten mixes

Harry Potter

Eleven mixes

Friday Night Lights

Fourteen mixes

Dollhouse

Star Trek: Voyager

Fifteen mixes

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Sixteen mixes

Pretty Little Liars

Twenty mixes

Angel the Series

Twenty-One mixes

A Song Of Ice And Fire

Thirty-Three mixes

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Also 16 mixes involved my OC's and 6 were non fandom

[6peaches]

Andrea Gibson - Birthday

At 12 years old I started bleeding with the moon and beating up boys who dreamed of becoming astronauts. I fought with my knuckles white as stars, and left bruises the shape of Salem. There are things we know by heart, and things we don’t.

At 13 my friend Jen tried to teach me how to blow rings of smoke. I’d watch the nicotine rising from her lips like halos, but I could never make dying beautiful. The sky didn’t fill with colors the night I convinced myself veins are kite strings you can only cut free. I suppose I love this life,

in spite of my clenched fist. I open my palm and my lifelines look like branches from an Aspen tree, and there are songbirds perched on the tips of my fingers, and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.

But my lungs remember the day my mother took my hand and placed it on her belly and told me the symphony beneath was my baby sister’s heartbeat. And I knew life would tremble like the first tear on a prison guard’s hardened cheek, like a prayer on a dying man’s lips, like a vet holding a full bottle of whisky like an empty gun in a war zone just take me just take me

Sometimes the scales themselves weigh far too much, the heaviness of forever balancing blue sky with red blood. We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways, but you still have to call it a birthday. You still have to fall for the prettiest girl on the playground at recess and hope she knows you can hit a baseball further than any boy in the whole third grade And I’ve been running for home

through the windpipe of a man who sings while his hands playing washboard with a spoon on a street corner in New Orleans where every boarded up window is still painted with the words We’re Coming Back like a promise to the ocean that we will always keep moving towards the music, the way Basquait slept in a cardboard box to be closer to the rain.

Beauty, catch me on your tongue. Thunder, clap us open. The pupils in our eyes were not born to hide beneath their desks. Tonight lay us down to rest in the Arizona dessert, then wake us washing the feet of pregnant women who climbed across the border with their bellies aimed towards the sun. I know a thousand things louder than a soldier’s gun. I know the heartbeat of his mother.

Don’t cover your ears, Love. Don’t cover your ears, Life. There is a boy writing poems in Central Park and as he writes he moves and his bones become the bars of Mandela’s jail cell stretching apart, and there are men playing chess in the December cold who can’t tell if the breath rising from the board is their opponents or their own, and there’s a woman on the stairwell of the subway swearing she can hear Niagara Falls from her rooftop in Brooklyn, and I’m remembering how Niagara Falls is a city overrun with strip malls and traffic and vendors and one incredibly brave river that makes it all worth it.

Y’all, I know this world is far from perfect. I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon. I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic. But every ocean has a shoreline and every shoreline has a tide that is constantly returning to wake the songbirds in our hands, to wake the music in our bones, to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that brave river that has to run through the center of our hearts to find its way home.

- Birthday by Andrea Gibson

[papermoonloveslucy]

ARBOR DAY

Trees of the Lucyverse! 

“I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree.” ~ Joyce Kilmer

(Everything Except Christmas Trees.)

“The Marriage License” (1952) ~ To correct an error on their original marriage license, Lucy and Ricky travel to Greenwhich, Connecticut to renew their vows. While there, Lucy makes Ricky renact his proposal at the tree bench where it first happened.  

LUCY: “Gee. I don’t remember this seat being so small, do you? I guess the tree grew in a little from each side.”  RICKY: “Let’s face it, we’ve grown out a little from each side!”

“The Camping Trip” (1953) ~ Lucy wants to do everything Ricky does - including going on a camping trip to go fishing and duck hunting. To make sure she bests Ricky in hunting and fishing, Ethel tags along out of sight, hiding up a tree to make sure Lucy is a sure shot!  

LUCY: “These look like pretty good duck trees to me.” RICKY: “This might come as a surprise to you, Lucy, but you find ducks on the water, not up in the trees.”

Later, Ricky spies Ethel in the branches. 

RICKY: “Ethel, you get out of that tree!”

“Lucy’s Last Birthday” (1952) ~ When the Friends of the Friendless marches through the park, a low-hanging tree branch snags Barbara Pepper’s hat knocking it to the ground. Pepper continues the scene hatless and (for consistency) also appears hatless in the next scene inside the Tropicana. 

“Lucy Writes a Play” (1952) ~ The title of Lucy’s first script is “A Tree Grows in Havana”, a pun on “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” a book and a film in the mid-40’s. There was even a Broadway musical of the same title starring Shirley Booth that closed two weeks before the episode filmed.

“Lucy Hires an English Tutor” (1952) ~ Ricky demonstrates his English skills by reading aloud from a children’s book. 

RICKY: "He spent his time in the forest cutting down booges from the trees." LUCY: “Wait a minute. Wait  just a minute. What is this booges?" RICKY: (points to text)“Booges, right in there.” LUCY:“That's boughs.” RICKY: “B-O-U-G-H is bough?” LUCY: “Right.” RICKY: “Bough.”

“Lucy is Enceinte” (1952) 

“Were having a baby, my baby and me. You'll read it in Winchell's That we're adding a limb to our family tree!”

“First Stop” (1955) ~ On the way to Hollywood, the gang has no choice but to stay at the run-down One Oak Cabins.  

In “Lucy and the Stolen Stole” (1964), con-man Harry Barton (Buddy Hackett) lives on Old Oak Drive in San Fernando. 

In Danfield, Hoffstedder’s Drugstore is located on Oak Street.

When “Lucy is a Process Server” (1964), she is hired by a new employment agency located on Oak Street.

“Ethel’s Hometown” (1955) ~ To upstage Ethel on her ego trip homecoming, Fred performs an old vaudeville routine involving a rapidly growing tree! 

“The Tour” (1955) ~ Lucy scales a wall of the Richard Widmark estate to pick a souvenir grapefruit from his tree - then gets caught on the other side. 

“LIttle Ricky’s School Pageant” (1956) ~ Big Ricky’s role in “The Enchanted Forest” is to play a Hollow Tree.  

RICKY: “The only father in the whole school that is in show business, and they want me to play a hollow tree.”

LITTLE RICKY: “Why don't you want to be a tree?” RICKY: “Oh. Well, I'm a performer. I've been in show business since I was a...” LITTLE RICKY: “I think you should be a tree. It's more fun to cooperate than to be the center of attention.” RICKY: “You're absolutely right. I'll be a tree.” LITTLE RICKY: “Oh, boy! Daddy's gonna be a tree!  Daddy's gonna be a tree!”

“The Ricardos Dedicate a Statue” (1957) ~ While seraching for Fred the dog, Lucy decapitates the statue by not looking in the rear view mirror!

LUCY: “I jumped in the car and forgot all about the trailer and backed right into that elm tree.”

Danfield’s Elm Tree Inn was mentioned in several episodes of “The Lucy Show”: “Chris’s New Year’s Eve Party” (1962),  “Lucy Teaches Ethel Merman to Sing” (1964), and “Viv Moves Out” (1964).  

In “Lucy and Bob Crane” (1966), Crane says he owns a home on 993 Elm in Beverly Hills.  

In Danfield, Mr. Mooney’s home is located at 429 Elm Street.

Rescuing Grandma Sutton’s cat from up a tree is the first call of the Danfield Volunteer Women’s Fire Brigade in “Lucy and Viv Are Volunteer Firemen” (1963). The incident is mentioned again in “Lucy Drives A Dump Truck” (1963). 

“Chris Goes Steady” (1964) ~ Lucy Carmichael and Mr. Mooney are stranded in a Jerry and Sherman’s tree house hoping to catch their kids eloping. They didn’t count on a snowstorm while they waited.     

“Lucy the Rain Goddess” (1966) ~ At a dude ranch, Lucy and Viv listen to a guide Tex Critter (Willard Waterman) explain the local foliage. 

TEX: “Now... this is a Joshua tree, and there's a real romantic story behind it. You know all about the birds and the bees. Well, this is a love triangle between two Joshua trees and a little bee called the Joshua Tree Bee. See, the Joshua trees depend on this little bee to carry the pollen from one to the other. You know, it makes me feel poetic. Where would the Joshua tree be without the Joshua Tree Bee?”

“Lucy and Curtis Are Up A Tree” (1986) ~ In this unaired episode of “Life With Lucy,” Curtis is building a tree house for Kevin. When Kevin overhears his grandparents are planning to move out, he removes the ladder to the tree house stranding them in a rain storm.

The Arnaz-Morton family poses between the boughs of a tree (1965).

A plaque has been placed at the base of two tall palm trees where The Long, Long Trailer was filmed in 1954. A resort is now on the site where the trailer park was located in the film. 

[xneens]

hoe hoe hoe - part one

Warnings: dark!Steve, student/teacher relationship

Word count: 2.2k

Pairings: Professor!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Your dad's best friend isn't exactly who you thought he'd be.

chris evans masterlist

Walking in the front door, the smell of eggnog, and pine hit your nose, mixing in with the warmth of the newly cooked food in the kitchen. Looking around the house, you registered how much decorating you had left your father to do, pondering whether or not he strained his back putting up the Christmas tree. You'd have to make it up to him somehow.

"Dad! I'm home." you yelled out, stepping out of your shoes. Even with the amount of work he had done, he still had the time to shovel the driveway despite the heavy amount of snow that had precipitated last night. The mixed-breed boxer pawed his way to you, the dog panting as he snuggled himself against your leg. "Hey, cutie."

Your father stuck his head from the kitchen, motioning for you to come into the room. "In the kitchen. I was getting worried that you got stuck in traffic. It's an absolute nightmare coming into the city from 122 right now."

Entering the kitchen with Dodger, you went to hug your dad, your arms wrapping around his waist. The man chuckled, giving your cold body a hug back before kissing your forehead. You sighed, pulling away, looking around the kitchen to see the dining room covered with food. "Traffic was a bitch, but I managed to get out of it. Although, I may have made a couple of people mad, but you gotta do what you have to do, right?"

"You got that right, pumpkin." he replied. For someone with a 20 year old daughter, the man was young, having you with his high school sweetheart at 19. He gestured at the food. "You hungry? I made all of this and I'm not sure that everyone at the party will eat all of this."

"Jesus, Dad, were you drunk when you made all of this? This is enough to feed the whole country." you commented, walking up to the table to grab a mini quiche off the plate. Your tongue swirled around the food, relishing the flavor. It was a gift having your father as a successful chef.

"I may have went overboard with the cooking, but I got excited." he explained, chuckling. Pouring some eggnog in a mug, he offered it to you, taking a sip of his own before announcing his news. "An old friend of mine is coming for the party. My best friend in college. He's in town for the holidays, and he'll be staying with us for a few. That okay?"

You nodded, washing the remaining quiche in the eggnog, swallowing it down. "Yeah, that's fine. Who's this friend of yours? Have I met him before?"

"You used to call him Uncle Steve, but he left for Brooklyn when you were four. I doubt you'd remember him but he gave you that necklace last year when he couldn't make it. He's a professor in Brooklyn now, but he wanted to come to Boston, spend the holidays with us."

"Wait, he gave me this necklace?" you asked, holding up the golden angel wings between your fingers. Your dad nodded, untying the knot on his apron. "Oh, wow. Hey, I officially get to thank him for it."

You dad agreed, nodding again as he popped a mint in his mouth, his teeth grinding down on it. "Yes, you will. He'll appreciate seeing you again. He's been talking about seeing his favorite girl—shit."

"Something wrong?"

"I forgot to pick up the ham today. I've been so busy making everything for today that I completely forgot about the main course for tomorrow." said your father, rubbing the bridge of his nose, mentally slapping himself. He sighed. "Can you take the pie out of the oven when it's ready? I have to run to the store really quick and get the ham."

Shaking your head, you stopped him, pushing his clearly exhausted body into the nearest chair, shaking a finger at him when he tried to stand back up. "No, no, no. You're tired and you need to rest. I'll get the ham, and anything else you need. Text me a list."

"Pumpkin, you don't have to do that. You just got home—" he was cut off by your insistent expression, the man relenting. "Okay, fine. Go to the Costco, they have a better selection there. And drive safe, it's supposed to be snowing tonight but with Massachusetts weather, you never know if it'll start early."

"Gotcha. I'll be back soon. In the meantime, you sit, rest, and text me a list of things I need." you said, grabbing the keys from the table. The cold air hit your face, your cheeks stinging from the impact. You winced, wishing home was somewhere warmer.

The drive to Costco was nostalgic, the familiar buildings and roads bringing back memories so deep you forgot they existed. The little ice cream place reminded you of your first kiss with your first grade boyfriend. You had immediately broken up with him the next day, claiming it was the way he walked when he asked if it was his sloppy peck on the lips. You had lied through your teeth.

Slosh was fun, it made it that much gross to walk through the barely shoveled parking lot, nearly slipping as you reached the entrance. One of the employees by the door handed you a cart, giving you a curt smile before returning to his spot.

Pushing the cart down the aisles, you immediately head to the grocery area, getting a text from your dad of all the food to get. With how short the list was, the cart had been unnecessary, but you decided to get all the last minute Christmas shopping out of the way, grabbing a Christmas card to match the present you had gotten for your father.

You had just bent over, reaching for the ham when you heard your name called, the familiar voice making you look up. A few feet behind you stood your history professor, a surprised smile on his face as he took you in. You returned the smile, stunned by the sight of you professor. "Professor Rogers? Hey, what're you doing here?"

The blond raised an eyebrow, his piercing blue eyes flickering to the necklace visible. He smirked inside, his heart warming at the thought. "I'm in the city for the holidays. I'm staying with a friend, catch up with them. What about you? Any exciting plans for Christmas?"

"Just spending it with my dad." you replied, reaching behind you to randomly grab a ham, not looking at the brand, and dropped it in the cart. "To be honest, I didn't think you could even leave Brooklyn. I mean, you practically worship the city, it's a surprise seeing you outside of it."

Professor Rogers laughed, his laughter was what you imagined angels to sound like. To say you had a tiny crush on the hot professor was understandable, although, so did everyone who had eyes. The professor leaned against the freezer, his eyes never breaking from yours. "Brooklyn's nice but it's nice to get out once in a while. That's a beautiful necklace you have there."

"Thanks, I got it from my dad's friend." you said, blushing slightly at the compliment. Taking a quick look at your phone, you noted you had everything your dad had asked for. Glancing back up at the Professor Rogers, you noticed how close he was, barely a few feet away. You gave him a smile. "It was nice seeing you, Professor. I'll see you in class."

Before you could move your cart, the professor placed a hand on it, motioning for you to pause. The blond scratched the back of his head, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Do you need help with anything? I can help you load this in your car, if you want."

"I didn't realize you worked at Costco, Professor." you teased, earning the cutest blush from the blond. Giggling, you shook your head, enjoying his company a lot more than it was allowed. "Don't worry, it's fine. It's not a lot, and I wouldn't want to bother—"

"You're not." he interrupted, sheepishly staring at the floor. The professor made himself look up, smirking when he realized you were blushing. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. Humor me?"

Call it stupidity or side effects of Steve Rogers' presence, but you wanted to spend more time with him, no matter how domestic the chore. Your smile widened, if possible, and you nodded. "Alright, if you insist. I've gotten everything I need, so I can tag along with you."

"All I really needed was some coffee," Professor Rogers held up the little plastic container filled with coffee grounds. Your thoughts immediately went to his hands wrapped around the cylinder, mentally slapping yourself for finding the simple action hot. "I'm ready to go if you are."

"Oh, okay. Let's go then."

The wall from the grocery area to the checkout was rather fun, the professor making you blush too many times to count, the smile on either of your faces never leaving. It wasn't a secret how many people fought to be in his class, guys included, mostly trying to "bond" with the professor only to get turned down every time someone had the balls to ask him. But it never stopped anyone from trying. It was almost pathetic, but very amusing in a sadistic way.

Professor Rogers held your grocery bags in his hands, effortlessly carrying them while you tried to take them back, feeling bad for having your professor help you out. The man would wave away your pleas, and you gave up as soon as you neared your car, unlocking the doors, and opened the trunk, Professor Rogers unloading all the bags inside. You bit back a smile, admiring the view, jealously wondering who would be lucky enough to end up as his wife.

He closed up the trunk once he was done, shifting his weight between his feet. "So, are you staying in Boston for the whole break or...?"

"Yup. I haven't spent much time with my dad since summer, and I've been guilted to stay in the cold since he's too stubborn to go somewhere warmer." you answered, playfully rolling your eyes. Professor Rogers walked you to the driver's side while you played with your keys, not wanting to say goodbye to him already. "What about you?"

"Me, too." said the professor, tucking his hands in his winter coat. He sighed, the smile dropping. "It was really nice to see you. I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

You nearly swooned at the nickname, cursing your heart for being so easily affected. "You, too, Professor. Happy Holidays and all that."

He laughed, walking off with a wave, the smile that had fallen now impended on his face as he walked back to his car. Steve turned around to see you get in yours, unsubtly staring at your ass. He sighed once again, a wave of sadness washing over him, the feeling he got every time he had to say goodbye to you. It would only be a couple of minutes, but it didn't make him hate it any less.

You drove off after a few seconds of getting your shit together; seeing your unbearable hot professor made you feel like a disgusting head-over-heels in love teenager. Or in other words, it made you the same as those desperate girls back on campus. You scoffed at the thought, starting your car. Hopefully, you'd see him again before class starts, but you highly doubt it.

Snow was falling, the little flurries making it harder to see through the windshield, only to stop suddenly when you reached your house. You grabbed the groceries from the trunk, easily carrying it into the house, so focused on not slipping that you hadn't noticed a very familiar car in the driveway.

Opening the door with ease, you entered the house, almost getting knocked out by the eager dog, jumping up on you. Laughing, you placed all the bags in one arm, reaching down with your free one to pet Dodger. The dog panted happily, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as it dismounted it's paws off your legs. The house had gotten awfully warm, even for you, and you immediately set the bags down to take off your coat. You hadn't noticed the shoes besides the door.

"Dad, I'm back." you announced, picking up the bags and headed to the kitchen, your gaze on the floor, careful not to slip.

Your father clapped Steve's back, the broad blond's presence gone unnoticed by you while you dropped the bags on the kitchen island. Your dad smiled. "Thanks, pumpkin. Honey, this is Steve, my buddy from college."

You turned around, facing them, a grin on your face, only to drop slightly when you saw who Steve was. There, standing in the middle of your kitchen, stood your history professor, all six feet of him, nonchalantly grinning at you. He engulfed you in a hug, leaving you breathless. "Professor?"

"Hello, sweetheart."

next >

[peralta-guaranteed]

Would u write something about Mac first words being "dad" o "daddy" and Jake GOING INSANE about that? I think it would be really special to him bc all his story with his dad and all his fear on becoming

He'd taken his eyes off of him for five seconds - the card machine at the bodega was giving him some prompt he'd never seen before - so of course something had to happen. Jake still mostly banked on Mac being unable to walk freely for more than a few steps from him, but he should've really factored in all the perfect toddler-height shelving that he could use as railings to get a whole aisle over before he and the cashier flinched from the sound of a crash.

And then the crying started.

The cashier was actually faster than him, given a headstart from not having to drop an entire basket of shopping to run over, but Jake was directly behind her to see his kid sitting on the ground, a puddle of something slopping around him and half over him. Pasta sauce, he realised as he saw the wobbly carton display that had obviously not been as steady as the metal shelves Mac had been holding onto before.

"Da...!" Mac sobbed with outstretched arms towards him. "Da-heee..." He wailed again with tears streaming down his face while Jake lifted him up, covering himself in sauce too as Mac clung to him and sobbed into his shoulder.

"Daddy's here, bud. It's okay. It's okay." He bounced him up and down as the crying slowed, cursing himself out in his head all the while. How did he let him wander away like that? Why did he not notice sooner? He'd been careless and stupid and irrespsonsible and a horrible fath-

"Is he okay?" The cashier still looked far more worried at them than at the mess she'll have to clean up now, and it gladly brought him back to centre as the only real adult in the room right now (she can't be more than 17, he thinks).

"Yeah, just spooked. I'm so sorry, I'll pay for the sauce of course-" Jake stopped as Mac lifted his head off his shoulder again, eyes red-rimmed but not crying anymore, at least, only to see that his forehead was less covered in pasta sauce and more smeared with blood from a cut over his eyebrow, and his heart dropped even deeper than when he heard the crash. "Actually, do you sell bandaids?"

-*-

"It's okay, peanut. Daddy's fixing it." He forces his voice to be soft and calm while Mac sniffles, sitting on the counter, the cashier picking up Jake's dropped shopping bags while he cleans the little cut with the alcohol wipes she'd handed him without even ringing them up. It's not that bad, he tries to comfort himself fruitlessly, just a little nick that bled a bit more than usual, but should be fine with a bandaid and some lotion. It's fine. He didn't- he didn't let Mac get actually injured. He didn't. Even though his subconscious was screaming nothing else at him.

Mac's eyes are still swimming while he stares up at Jake, unblinking, clinging to his fake-soft smile as probably the only thing to convince him there was no need to cry at the moment. You and me both, Jake thinks for a second.

"Daddeh." He squeaks softly as Jake sticks on a puppy-themed bandaid (also not rung up), and grabs his hand with his little grubby fingers, and time kind of stops for a moment as they look at each other. Mac's eyes are big and still slightly red-rimmed, but trained on him like there's nothing else in the world but them, and for Jake, there might as well not be.

"See, Daddy fixed it." The cashier breaks through, smiling at him too as she hands Jake his shopping with the bandaid box dropped in, and time loops back into normal. She gets a soft Thanks and a nod after she hands him his card from the blasted machine that started it all, too, and doesn't even mention the several jars broken an aisle over. She waves goodbye to Mac instead as they leave, and Jake is definitely leaving the largest bills he has in her tip jar next time they come in.

-*-

Mac's splashing water and bubbles around in his small tub, because the sauce had leaked through his dungarees straight over his legs, and Jake is busy scrubbing him down with the soft loofah that'll probably have to go into the trash after all this. There's too much swirling through his head while he carefully showers Mac off. A whole barrage of emotion he'd love to just aimlessly ramble out, but there's no one to listen to him in their little apartment right now, the only person who'd maybe understand him still stuck at work. He looks at the puppy bandaid on Mac's forehead that he'll have to change after the bath, at his happy face playing with the little ducky that makes such fun squeaky noises when it's filled with water, no sign of tears or pain left at all.

"Hey, Mac-a-roni." Jake whispers while Mac giggles and splashes some more water out of the baby-tub into the big one it was sitting in. "You... said something at the bodega, didn't you?"

Mac had been babbling and making noises for months now, lots of Goos and Gaas, the occasional Bleh and Duh thrown in, but Jake and Amy had agreed that none of those had been discernible as words yet, especially as they were never directed at anything in particular. Not like on the counter back there, staring straight at him with his big, chocolate eyes after that little parenting disaster he still wanted to scold himself for. Not like right now, soap bubbles clinging to his curls, smiling up at him in the comforting moment of their usual night routine.

"Daddeh!" Mac squeaks again, holding his arms out to be picked up into a towel like always, but held against Jake's chest much tighter than usual. He's trying not to cry, very hard, but he's sure his eyes are swimming and shiny as much as Mac's were while he was being bandaged up.

"Daddeh." He repeats as Jake laughs, breathlessly, kisses up and down his perfect chubby cheeks for some more squeals and laughter from them both, hugs him close again and again even as he dries him off and gets him dressed.

There's something warm glowing in his chest, Jake feels as he dances Mac to sleep to abuela's Spanish lullaby tape, something that feels both familiar and foreign at once. It reminds him of the feeling that shook all through him when that firefighter placed a screaming, goo-covered baby onto Amy's chest as she cried and carefully touched the dark whisps of hair already matted to his head. That feeling that settled around his heart for forever as Rosa handed him a cleaned up, swaddled baby that wasn't screaming anymore, his eyes closed but his teensy tiny hand wrapping tight around Jake's finger. It's a little different - but it's not, it's more of the same, but grown. Added on, like a new bud on an already flowering tree.

Jake is sure there'll be lots of new blooms on that feeling in the years to come, but this one, the one that opens up even more as Mac sighs one more little "Daddeh" as he falls asleep against his shoulder, will surely be remembered for forever.

-*-

He has enough wherewithal to warn Amy about the bandaid when she gets home and immediately moves to check on sleeping Mac, and she only rolls her eyes when she drops down onto the couch next to him after softly closing the nursery door.

"Do I even want to hear the story of the bandaid?"

"It wasn't anything. Just a little accident at the bodega. He's fine." Jake's actually convinced himself of that now, too, so it sounds believable enough.

"Alright." Amy nods, he swallows back down the worries he thought about sharing if she asked him to still explain instead. "Aside from that, how was your day with him? Did you have fun?"

"Oh yeah." Jake tries to grin and pulls her in to lean against his side as she rests her head on his shoulder, seeming almost as sleepy as Mac was when he did it earlier. "We went to the park and the post office and the bank and the bodega, obviously. A whole Brooklyn adventure."

"That's nice." Amy says in a quiet voice, and he wonders if he'll have to carry her to bed in a second.

"And, well." He hesitates, and that is enough to make her lift her head. Maybe he shouldn't say it. Maybe he should wait until the morning, let her discover it on her own, and pretend like it's the first time he's hearing it too. Forget about how it all came about today.

"Well what?"

"He said something."

"What?! Why didn't you lead with that? Why didn't you text me?!?" She sits up, staring at him with wide eyes, and he looks - apologetic, almost worried.

"I didn't want you to feel bad because you missed it." And didn't want to explain how I fucked up to make it happen.

"Oh." She visibly deflates, but then smiles at him. "But you heard it, right? He said it in front of you?"

"Yeah. He, uh. Actually. He said daddy. To me."

Jake completely misinterprets Amy's face, her scrunched together eyebrows, her shining eyes, her mouth softly opening and closing, and immediately leans forward with a hand on her arm to console her.

"I'm sure he's going to say Mama next, Ames - he's already going 'Mah' all the time, so-"

"He called you daddy?" Her voice is so soft, almost breaking, as he feels her hands on his cheek. "Jake, that's wonderful!"

"Yeah." He nods with a shy smile, but Amy's face only softens more.

"You're his first word." She says with so much reverance, and he can't feel bad about it anymore. Can't think he doesn't really deserve it, not when she looks at him with that much love in her eyes. "You're Mac's first word."

"I'm daddeh." His smile isn't so shy anymore, not when he says it out loud like that, not when it feels 100% right.

"You're really daddy, babe. You're daddy."

He huffs and smiles even wider with another nod, and that feeling is back, that little warm glow blooming in his chest, and Amy is quick to wipe away the few tears that make their way down his cheeks all of a sudden before bending forward for a kiss.

"DADDEH!" echoes through the room from behind a closed door where someone is clearly not interested in sleeping anymore, and Amy laughs against his lips.

"See?"

"I'm gonna go and get him." Jake sighs happily.

"Oh please." She nods as he gets up. "I want to see him say it to you."

[apexart-journal]

Mvelo Mahlangu in NYC, Day 4

The beautiful sun showed it face today and bathed New York in sunshine. From the apartment, the illusion was that it was warmer out. I was very wrong. It in fact felt a little bit colder than the previous days.

Today, I was headed to Brooklyn again for a class in Tree pruning & care. Once I got out the train station in Brooklyn, I knew where I was. I was right by the Domino Sugar Refinery that I saw from yesterday's cruise tour. I definitely knew I wanted to stop by the factory after the class. Walking towards the community garden, I noticed a little Japanese convenience store and quickly went in. I felt like I was in a genuine Japanese store back in my grandparents hometown and when I saw all the deserts, nostalgia hit me.

With an onigiri in one hand and packaged mochi in the other, I happily continued the walk. I really liked the area of Brooklyn I was in. It was a lot more quiet, not a lot of tall buildings, and very residential areas with many coffee shops around. In Manhattan, it's very easy to feel isolated, where as here, I felt like I could bump into an old friend.

The community garden was a little slice of nature surrounded by residential buildings. It was refreshing too see as I haven't seen any parks or open land yet. The instructor William started talking to us about trees and how they grow, what organs they have and their functionings. Sometimes in the rush of life, it's easy to forget that trees are also these living organisms that are trying their best at each moment to survive and are not just in existence for the purposes of humans. William spoke to us on why we prune trees, what to identify and what tools are needed. The primary reason we prune trees is for human aesthetic choices, then comes the other reasonings like keeping tress healthy or giving it the best chance to live longer.

As we went around pruning and sawing parts of the trees off, I must say, I really did think about how we humans keep trying to bend nature to the confines of our society. Cutting or 'pruning' a young trees branch off because we predict it to grow into the building next to it which will cause a problem in the future... If there were no buildings around would we still do the same thing? Supposedly pruning does not harm the tree if done correctly and is done in winter as opposed to summer to avoid infection & disease from entering the 'wound'. So another question begs "At what point do we let nature run its course and at what point do we step in to intervene?"

I'm definitely caught in this thought that we've separated ourselves so much from nature that we forget we are a part of it too.

After the freezing walk about and pruning of trees, I decided to quickly walk to the Domino Sugar Factory. It was refreshing walking based on line-of-sight as opposed to constantly looking at my phone for directions. The building was incredibly huge. What fascinated me the most was the relationship between the former original brick exterior and the use of glass as the new interior/exterior. So almost like a glass box with a dome above, nestled into a big brick box. That is the best use of architectural coexistence in preserving history that I've seen so far. I need to do more research on the building to contextualise and understand its functions better.

I sat by the river, ate some lunch and made my way back to the apartment to go rest. Body clock is still adjusting so I was really exhausted. Once I got to the apartment, I extensively cleaned the space and prepped for the last activity on my calendar which was a guided meditation class. I took a 15 minute nap only to wake up 3 hours later and 20 minutes before the online class. feeling a bit drowsy I pushed on into the meditation class which helped me relax more as I called for affirmation "I forgive myself and everyone" amongst other affirmations. Apparently each area of your body houses a chakra which taps into different aspects of emotion/feeling. This took me back to the conversation the night before I had with someone who also attended improv jam where he spoke on chakra's and how his meditation journey has helped keep him looking and feeling youthful.

Right afterwards, I fell asleep and reminded myself to watch the movie "Into the woods" in the morning.

[im-in-love-with-pizza-bites]

Lex's 1,500 Follower milestone prompt event!

Find main master list: Here

Alright! I actually know that I'm doing this time kinda. Okay so here's the plan there's some prompts under the cut I'll write a fic for each as I get people requesting them. (Other requests are still closed though!) The prompts will be summer and spring themed! I did put some of the prompts that I didn't get to use from the last time in this too. There's also a list of who I'm writing in this event at the bottom along with rules. Thank you for 1,500 Followers and Thank you for putting up with my crap!

Everything is under the cut:

Dialogue Prompts:

"You got stuck in a tree trying to get their kite?" "Yeah. Get a ladder!"

"Give up your out of water balloons."

"Let's go skinny dipping." "Absolutely not."

"I knew we never should've gotten you a super soaker."

"You'll have to let that lighting bug go eventually."

"If I'm going fishing with you then I'm dressing however I want."

"Did you really forget to get Marshmallows? That's the main ingredient!"

"Can I start a lemonade stand?"

"Put down the super soaker."

Person A: "I dare you to shoot Person C." Person B: "No! They'd kill me!" (Talking about water guns when I say shoot of course)

"It's nice out why are you inside?"

"Don't climb that tree it's gonna end badly." "It'll be fine."

Scenario Prompts:

Person A finding Person B and their kids having a water balloon fight.

Person A forcing Person B to do some spring cleaning.

Person A and Person B having a bon fire party.

Person A taking Person B to the beach for the first time.

Going to the lake together.

Watching fireworks together.

Person A and Person B meeting at summer camp.

Person A working at a ice cream shop and Person B coming to bother them at work.

Starting a garden together

Going to a water park together.

Going to a baseball game together.

Going to a County Fair together.

Person A paying Person B to mow their lawn.

People you can request for this event:

Chris Evans

Tom Holland and Co

Chris Hemsworth

Sebastian Stan

Brooklyn Nine Nine

Leroy Jethro Gibbs (NCIS)

Timothy McGee (NCIS)

Nick Torres (NCIS)

Anthony DiNozzo (NCIS)

Rules other info:

I’m going to link the fic with to corresponding prompt, and in my master lists!

Only request for the people in the list above please.

Can be platonic, familial, or Romantic for all prompts unless specified in the prompt.

This event goes from today (April 25th) to May 11th.

[claybefree]

Seeing as it's the twentieth anniversary, I guess I should post this again

September Third, Two Thousand and Nine

For years whenever anyone asked me when my son Henry was born I’d start to say September instead of August 25, 2001. Sunday he had his eighth birthday party at his mother’s house, and I stayed here. Most of his mother’s friends don’t care for me much. The feeling is mutual. Tonight coming home from work I started stitching what I’m about to write together in my mind and suddenly got very afraid. I thought for a moment that I was about to go get drunk, which might very likely be death for somebody like me. I was sure I was going to change direction of the truck, that I’d drive the same route I always did back then, that I would stand by the register and stare at the bottle in my hand without really knowing I where I was. I think it has to do with the weather finally changing and perhaps that Henry’s mom and I are no longer together. I sat on the porch of my little house and called a friend and told him all this. He listened and after a while I felt better, which is exactly how these things should go. When we decided we were done he told me I should go in and write all this down.

I worked on through that whole day. Most everybody else on the job had stopped and listened to each of the radios on the different floors or cried. The asshole Turks I was framing a bathroom for wouldn’t let me quit. They had tile to run. I found it made me feel better to keep going anyway. The laborers cussed me when I asked them to move so that I could use the table saw, a natural gathering spot on any job. They seemed to think I was calloused or hard-hearted and it was because I was from Tennessee. It just now occurred to me that maybe they were right.

That afternoon, when it was determined safe to walk across the bridges, most of the job, the other carpenters and trades-people, wandered home to Brooklyn or Queens. Me and the two left to close everything up had it different as we lived in Jersey. Anthony, the boss, was big and red-haired, red faced and lived in Hoboken. Duane was in charge of demolition and waste, was a little shorter and darker, and lived in Secaucus or maybe somewhere west of that I think. They squared off on each other frequently. It always reminded me of two walruses going at it on a beach.

Whenever we went out to the bar afterwards Anthony would have a Bud tall boy in each hand at all times, the waitress would come up with four for him whenever we sat down. On the job we liked to yell at each other, I once told him I was doing him a favor by giving him such an easy target, and he never missed an occasion to oblige me. Duane was a single dad, dark haired with deep sunken yet kind eyes that always seemed to have bags under them. One of the black laborers told him once he was the most Uncle Fester looking motherfucker he had ever seen. I tended to agree.

We locked the job up at four I think, humped it across the park through the smoke to the A-train. There was smoke forming a mist around the trees of central park that day. There were no flower children loitering at Yoko’s “Imagine” monument to barge through. Our thinking was to get downtown to the Path train. We had no idea that two of the stations had been destroyed. It didn’t matter, we were underground fifteen minutes before Anthony vetoed the idea. People were running wild through the stations, on the trains, everything was panic and Oh Fuck and Anthony had no intention of being underground. He had a funny look on his face that I couldn’t figure out. It wouldn't occur to me until later that the big man was very afraid.

In the years since I have always wondered why people have reacted so strongly from that day. Later we would go to war because of a something that happened one day in New York City and this has always seemed really strange to me. I guess what I mean is that I was there and never wanted to kill anybody because of it. Most of the time I just thought it was very strange and sad and mostly just very interesting. I only remember ever crying about it twice. The first time was a few months afterward, I had quit Anthony to stay home with Henry. Part of our routine was to watch Sesame Street. One day in the winter there was a skit where Elmo got very scared because of some smoke and noise that was never identified. I suppose in this case it was a nameless fear. A New York City fireman came on screen and hugged him, told him it was okay to be scared, Elmo, and that everything would be alright. I remember little red furry Elmo hugged the fireman tight. I held Henry in my lap and cried into his fine blonde hair.

It was the fireman that did it. I still get upset when I think about the firemen. I have had a lot of trouble with cops in different times in my life, but I never had a problem with any fireman I ever encountered, drunk or otherwise. They seem to me to be a different animal entirely.

Anthony, Duane and me ran into two firemen on the deck of the cruise boat that carried us across to Weehawken. They came in and collapsed on the painted metal floor, shedding boots and letting their helmets roll away. Some people applauded weakly, others asked questions, they just stared at us and said nothing. It didn’t occur to me until much later they were probably the only ones from their station who lived. Other men that for years they worked with, ate and fought with, got drunk with were dead. There was a bar I frequented in Jersey City a few blocks from our house where a couple of weeks later I saw three firemen in dress uniforms. One was between his partner on a stool and the third who was older and may have been a captain. The captain was clearly upset, swaggering and poking the other two in the chest. Everybody else was trying hard not to pay attention to what seemed about to develop into a fight. I think later I saw the old man leaning against the bar and weeping openly, he must have been sixty at least.

I got drunk in this bar Sept. 10th while my wife and kid slept back home. She’d start nursing and pass out with him and I’d head out to roam. The thing I liked about this place was the Sinatra on the jukebox, so that night I loaded it up and sat at the bar listening. I think it was the first time I’d ever heard “Summer Wind.” The tattooed brunette tending bar must have thought it was cute because she serenaded me, singing along with a couple of the songs. There was another man with a mustache further down the line who was putting the blast on her and didn’t seem to like me much so I got the fuck out early. By “early” I mean I didn’t close the place.

I won’t tell you what we saw on the boat ride across the Hudson, you’ve seen it already. We unloaded at Weehawken and everyone, thousands of high end refugees really, started walking south towards Hoboken where we had been told there were buses waiting to take us home. I noticed that even wearing boots, the three of us walked faster than the others. We were construction workers living and working around Manhattan and we were very good at walking. I remember being comforted by walking with them. Hundreds of buses lined the streets of Hoboken and the three of us walked the length of that town. Anthony broke off about halfway to head home. A couple of weeks later I showed up having laid out drunk for two days and told him I had come for my tools. He looked at me and didn’t say a word. He mailed me my check. I haven’t seen the man since.

Duane and me trudged the rest of Hoboken together. I heard that not soon after I left he was let go to cut costs and that not long after that he got into a bad time with a prostitute on rt. 1 & 9. The smoke in Hoboken was thicker than in the city and the fumes from streets filled with idling buses finally got my hangover to officially kick in. I told Duane about how I’d had “Summer Wind” playing as background music in my head all day. He laughed and began singing the song, each line perfectly. We got through the crowd easily, after hours of walking together we had finally hit a stride together. We were marching, really. There was the giant blue sky of the day broken intermittently by smoke and there was the roar of diesel noise and Hoboken and Duane singing Summer Wind to me; some punk kid from Tennessee who had no business being there.

The only other incident I remember having to cry because of some assholes who decided to fly planes into tall buildings was coming across the Manhattan bridge one night after carrying my sister-in-law home to Park Slope. She would come over most nights to hang out with the baby, and around eleven or so and in various states of sobriety I’d be asked to drive her back home. I never hated the terrorists for invoking a War of Terror, I hated them for causing enough terror that it fucked the roads up. Shit got closed for what seemed no fucking reason whatsoever. One day coming back from the pediatrician’s office, Henry got stuck howling in his car seat for four hours because the Holland Tunnel was handling too much traffic and we were too afraid to take him out of it because of the cops everywhere. My sister-in-law and I spent a lot of time in the Saturn together on the nights I drove her home. I can’t remember what we talked about, probably everything. I haven't spoken to my sister-in-law since I moved out last summer.

This particular night the Brooklyn Bridge was only operating east-bound into Brooklyn so after I dropped her off I was diverted back across the Manhattan Bridge in order to get back into the city and eventually home. The Manhattan Bridge back then was still under renovation and I guess has always been the ugly, cross-eyed cousin of the Brooklyn Bridge. I got stuck on it, moving slower than shit, and staring at trash and old faded plywood encasing the little bit of wrought iron and Neo-Classical elements that were left up by the arch. Off to the left t seemed as though the entirety of Downtown was illuminated from the work lights that were set up down by Ground Zero. Downtown glowed with lights that were set up to look for people that weren’t there anymore. The DJ on WFMU that night was playing a super slowed down cover of the B-52’s Song for a Future Generation. If you’ve heard it, you’ve probably laughed, it’s a ridiculously chirpy pop song. I’ve always loved it. The lyrics go a little like this:

Wanna be the ruler of the galaxy

Wanna be the king of the universe

Let`s meet and have a baby now

In between each stanza, the different members give spoken-word tidbits of information about themselves. For example Ricky, the original guitarist, was a Pisces and “loved computers and hot tamales.“ Ricky also died from AIDS back in 1985 when people still had no idea what the disease was.

The version I heard that night had slowed the tempo to that of a blues song. The dip-shit ironic hipster that sang it reflected this. Stuck on the bridge it felt as though I was listening to a lament. What reduced me to tears, smoking Winstons in my little Saturn station wagon, was the feeling that whatever was left of innocence had recently been or was about to be brutally murdered by pig-face, ignorant men. Wanna be the first lady of infinity. Wanna be the nicest guy on earth. Let's meet and have a baby now.