#big creek bridge

[inkymink]

Sunlit view toward Big Creek Bridge. Big Sur, California. 4 Jan 2018.

[misfitwashere]

Not Bixby.

Photo by @posttexasstressdisorder

[corgiboobs]

Big Creek Bridge in Tennessee back in May 2022.

[orofeaiel]

Snow Covered Bridge on Big Creek Trail

[emaadsidiki]

A Beautiful Afternoon By The Bixby Creek Bridge

[filmap]

Escape to Witch Mountain John Hough. 1975

Bridge Bixby Creek Bridge, 39020 Coast Rd, Monterey, CA 93940, USA See in map

See in imdb

Bonus: also in this location

[seamusicpoetry]

Bixby Creek Bridge, California, Monterey,USA

By Junipero Verbeke

Bixby Bridge, also known as Bixby Creek Bridge, on the Big Sur coast of California, is one of the most photographed bridges in California due to its aesthetic design, "graceful architecture and magnificent setting". It is a reinforced concrete open-spandrel arch bridge.Opened: November 27, 1932

[travelella]

Bixby Creek Bridge, Big Sur, Monterey County, California

Robert Bye

[rabbitcruiser]

Bixby Bridge, CA (No. 4)

The bridge was already popular before the introduction of smart phones and social media, and visitors to the Bixby Bridge and other Big Sur attractions have dramatically increased since then. Due to the large number of visitors, congestion and slow traffic between Carmel and the bridge is frequently the norm during popular holiday and vacation periods. The bridge was rated as the No. 1 “Instagram-Worthy Destination for 2019 Travels” by the website Travelpulse.com. The California state tourism commission describes the bridge as "a must-see road trip spot for many and probably the most Instagrammed features [sic] along [the] Highway 1 coastline." It promotes the bridge world-wide, including a deal with China's online tourism operator Tuniu that put the bridge on a custom route.

During holiday weekends and most summer vacation periods, the bridge area is "like a Safeway parking lot" according to a local resident. Traffic can come to a standstill as motorists wait for a parking spot. There is a pull out to the north and west side of Highway 1, but when it is full, visitors sometimes fail to completely pull off the highway, leaving inadequate space for passing vehicles.

The area near the bridge has become overwhelmed by visitors. Tourists routinely ignore warning signs to stay off the cliffs, and walk across the narrow 24 feet (7.3 m) wide bridge, although there is no room for pedestrians. There are no toilets within several miles of the bridge, and visitors resort to defecating in nearby bushes. Residents complain about toilet paper, human waste, and trash littering the roadside. On December 29, 2018, two dozen residents and business leaders turned out with signs alongside the northern approach to the bridge to launch a campaign they've named The Big Sur Pledge, encouraging visitors to treat the region with more respect.

Source: Wikipedia

[garblegarden]

concrete monoliths are awesome

[lappophotography]

Bixby Creek Bridge, on the Big Sur coast of California, is one of the most photographed bridges in California due to its aesthetic design, graceful architecture and magnificent setting.

It is one of the most popular stops along the famous Big Sur coast in Central California.

[wygolvillage]

contemplations with various meats

[goingplacesfarandnear]

California Pacific Highway 1 Roadtrip Finishes in Redondo Beach

The Pacific Highway 1 brings you to spectacular sights of Big Sur, with a view of the Bixby Creek Bridge © Karen Rubin/goingplacesfarandnear.com By Karen Rubin with Eric Leiberman, Travel Features Syndicate, goingplacesfarandnear.com Our adventure down California’s famous (and fragile) Pacific Highway 1 – rightly considered one of the most scenic byways in the country – which began in San…

[oksana-pl]

Міст Біксбі Крик, Біг Сур, Каліфорнія

[ellxio]

Drabble: you were sleepy and your roommate gave you a "hand" to prevent you from completely dozing off.

It's been hours since you started your activities and assignments! dang these teachers are giving too muchhh, it was making you sleepy asf, you could've played games and write but these fucks js wouldn't let you, would they? your glasses was slowly falling off your nose bridge as your head keeps on bobbing sleepily, you just can't help it! you already consumed 6 cans of caffeine and it was draining you tbh, feeling like you'd die any minute, your roommate knocked! oh gosh, finally someone saved you.

"Yo yn, you good? you look like....shit" the guy said straightforwardly, feeling disappointed and not really feeling on quarrelling your roommate, you just ignored the guy and continued writing on your notebook. Shocked that the guy actually left on his own will and didn't pester you! just when you were about to reach your book on your shelf— an arm pulled you down on someone's lap! seemingly awoken, you whipped your head behind you, you were greeted with a sly smirk

"Oh wow, now your awake?" he asked teasingly as he creeped his arms around your waist "I know what could wake you up fully" he said, pulling the waistband of your shorts while he smiled down at you, hinting what he wants. Thinking that you definitely needed a reliever and alsoo something that could wake you up, so you nodded n pulled down your shorts, with the male smiling in satisfaction and lubing up his cock with spit and spitting on your hole, to at least lube you somehow. As the guy slowly eased you down his cock, you could immediately feel alive and awaken! this guy's cock is big and thick asf, you felt like you're splitting in half!

It's been 3 hours of pure torture! this guy's a total menace, he's been grinding you down on his cock and just when your doing the same, he stops and stills, teasing you "I thought you're studying, bunny?" "c'mon you can do this, doll. Disobey and I'll leave you sleepy and horny" he taunts yet teases your hips, nipples, nape and neck! it was pure hell

Feeling fed up, you passed your glasses on to the teasing male and you grind down harshly on the male's cock and rode him like your life depended on it! awarded with a choked moan! his eyes rolled to the back of his head! it shocked the male but he didn't even complain and just watched you with a fucked out smile, each bounce, was making your gaming chair creek! His grunts and your moans were echoing throughout your room, making out with the whiny roommate and teased him of how he looks so hot and cute asf, it made him snap so he changed your position and continued plowing you on the table, your books and papers are all scattered!

One things for sure tho, your sleepiness was now long gone and instead replaced with horny♡

end

✰um, not really satisfied but I'm horny asf so here, I'll promise to rewrite this tommorow, good night/morning everyone, stay safe and stay tuned!

✰taglist

@kikizhly @darlingkaiden

[bloodmoonmuses]

translation: i love you. | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, college au (not that important for the context tbh), friends to lovers, fluff, drabble (900 words)

summary: your friends referred to you as the mark lee interpreter. you weren't sure why, but you understood him- even the words he didn't say.

warnings: none!

To many, you were known as the Mark Lee Interpreter. Such was usually said in jest, but you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest when the moniker was bestowed upon you. Sure, the guy rambles a bit, but if you listen- really listen- he has quite a beautiful outlook on the world. 

You and Mark usually conversed in motion. You’ve divulged your deepest secrets to him while on aimless walks. You’ve cracked your wisest jokes to one another while biking. You’ve had entire conversations through your eyes while dancing in grimy bars.

Now was no different, though a more chill variation. It’s Spring, so the two of you are taking a stroll in between classes. The sun knocks the chill off an otherwise too-chilly day, its rays falling on your face like a smattering of kisses. Spring isn’t in its picturesque stage quite yet. The stasis of winter still lingers, trees barren and skies grayish amidst the light that peeks through the cloud coverage. It’s calming.

There’s a creek that runs through the center of campus, a little bridge arching over the widest part. This is where you stood now, watching the water trickle over stones. 

“I think about rocks a lot,” Mark says out of nowhere. (Translation: Nature is so beautiful- even the most mundane and minute aspects of it. Even the parts that people forget. I think about forgotten things a lot, like rocks.) You believe it. Mark thinks a lot about a lot of things.

“They’re, like, soooo varied. Y’know?”

You do know. Large rocks. Mountainous rocks. Boulders. Stones. Pebbles. There are many types of rocks. “The ones in the creek look super smooth. It’s… hypnotizing.” Mark speaks as though he’s constantly in amazement, or on the brink of an epiphany. He’s the embodiment of potential, of the hypothetical, of what could be. You think a lot about what you and Mark could be. 

Of the many possibilities, you conclude that as long as some form of togetherness is involved, you’d be anything for him.

“I think about water a lot,” you respond. 

“What’s your favorite kind of water?” (Translation: Indulge me. How intently do you think about the minutiae of the world? Are you as crazy about water as I am about rocks?)

“Hm,” you say. “Good question. No one’s ever asked me that.” You assume he’s asking you to identify a particular body of water as your favorite. A memory comes to mind. 

It was the summer after freshman year. You and Mark went to the beach everyday together.  You think of the chilly water that rolled over your toes in the waking moments of dawn. You think of how beautiful the sunrise looked reflected on the ocean. You think of Mark waking up with you, despite not being a morning person. That wasn’t your favorite type of water, no. You specifically liked the sea water that danced on the ends of Mark’s hair. The drops that traveled down the follicle, forming shimmering beads, and dripped onto the sand below. You made a game of watching and counting them that summer. (The highest you got was 47.) 

You’re not sure how to consolidate this memory into a sentence that doesn’t sound absolutely insane. You decide to omit the thought entirely. A conversation for a different day, you suppose. 

“The ocean. Cliche, I know,” you say. Mark nods to himself, then hums.

The creek beneath you harmonizes with Mark’s humming. He begins walking again, taking your hand in his. This wasn’t too out of the ordinary for your friendship, but it makes your heart do this twisty thing you can’t quite place. It was the one action of his you couldn’t interpret. Mark doesn’t make a big deal about it, nor does he discuss the matter afterwards. It was almost like he was entitled to your hand, clasping his calloused fingers around yours without a second thought.

You’ve never actually looked at your intertwined hands before. The first time he grabbed it (during one of those days on the beach), Mark acted so nonchalant. You figured the gesture didn’t mean much to him. You were scared that, if provided with a visual, you’d never stop thinking about his stupid hands. 

This time, you allow yourself a peek. The cuff of Mark’s jacket hangs over his fingers, and he squeezes your hand when he realizes you’re looking. (Translation: You’re finally acknowledging this. Are you here? Can you feel me?) 

Your hand is getting sweaty. You pull away to wipe it on your jeans.

Mark can’t believe you’re nervous right now. You’re never nervous around him. The two of you have become accustomed to the wordless ease of your relationship.

Mark’s eyeing you again. You pretend you can’t see him in your peripheral vision. It doesn’t work. “Nervous?”

“Not even a little bit,” you say defiantly. You snatch his hand back into yours as if to prove your point. However, this only does the opposite as you begin to literally tremble.

“You’re so funny,” says Mark, running his thumb over the back of your hand. He slowly lifts your hand to his mouth, but he doesn’t kiss it. He simply presses your knuckles to his lips, maintaining eye contact while he does so. Your breath hitches.

“Mark-” is all you manage to say. You can’t meet his eyes, so you look at your conjoined hands as they swing between the two of you. Elation radiates off Mark’s skin. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Your hand is so warm,” Mark says. (Translation: I love you.) 

a/n: feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading!