car central

Havana - Cuba

Cuba is the largest of all the islands in the Caribbean, and with a population of 2.2million people, Havana is also the largest city in the Caribbean. The city was created in 1515 by Spanish conquistador Diego Velazquez. 

Havana’s architecture is incredibly diverse. The cities castles, that can date back to the 16th century, are juxtaposed against colonial buildings, and then modern high rises. Old Havana is where the cities most iconic neo-classical and baroque architecture can be found. This part of Havana is heritage listed by UNESCO. Best explored on foot, there are plenty of walking tours available for those wishing to explore the city. 

3

May 11 2017 - Workers at a car component factory in central France have occupied the plant and are threatening to blow it up in a radical protest against their bosses as the site risks closure.

The workers at the GM&S auto-suppliers plant in the Creuse region, north of Limoges, have told Renault and Peugeot they are ready to blow up the factory if their demands are not met.

Some 280 jobs at the site are under threat after the plant went into receivership back in December, and workers accuse the two car giants of blocking negotiations for a takeover of the factory and of making too few orders.

The protesters have already started destroying machinery at the site. Photos released on social media on Thursday, show them cutting a machine in half with a blowtorch. CGT trade union representatives say the workers will destroy a machine each day unless their demands are met. [video]/[video]

flickr

Panama Limited [Chicago IL] 1966

The Illinois Central’s iconic passenger train, ‘Panama Limited’, only 1 of 2 all-sleeping car trains in the United States of America in 1966, departs 63rd Street, Woodlawn, Chicago, Illinois on a rainy day in 1966.

Photographed on Kodachrome slide film.

Photo © John Steven Lasher.

flickr

(via Nice Rear End | The Panama Limited flies by Lee’s freight at… | Flickr)

The Amtrak Panama Limited passing an Illinois Central Gulf freight train

Kankakee, Illinois

January 18, 1976

Photo by Lee Hastman

Nightmares // Julian Albert x Reader

Summary: You had noticed Julian’s recent nightmares and were attempting to wait for him to come to you to talk about it. Though, when he refuses to tell you what’s going on you mind tells you what must’ve happened and your reaction puts you in grave danger.

Word count: 2,038

Warnings: mentions of cheating and sex, implied sexual harassment

Julian just wanted to leave everything that happened with Alchemy in the past. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He thought when the Philosopher’s Stone was gone he could just move on. Except it wasn’t that easy. Every night he had nightmares of all the people he hurt, of savitar’s voice inside his head.

You had been noticing he was acting strange but he never told you what was troubling him. It was unlike him to not tell you what was wrong, for the past two years you’d been together he told you everything. You knew that it must be something he’s not ready to discuss if he hasn’t told you yet. You wanted to know but you didn’t want to pry. You made sure to constantly tell him that you’d be there to listen as soon as he is ready to talk about it. It pained you to see him hurting and to know that he was bottling up all of his emotions.

You felt him jolt awake and could hear his heavy breathing. You turn on your side to face him and see him sitting up, elbows to his knees, and head in his hands. You hear light, quiet sobs escaping from his mouth and your heart breaks to see him like this.

You sit up and run a hand up and down his bare back, not saying anything and just letting him calm down. He begins to relax at your touch but you can still feel the tension in his muscles. You place a hand on his forearm and he pulls his head from his hands to look at you.

“Do you want to talk about it,” you ask lightly while sliding your hand down his arm to intertwine your fingers.

“No,” he chokes out, fiddling with your fingers. “I just want to forget about it.”

“You can’t forget about it by keeping everything in,” the hand you hand on his back moves to his cheek, he melts into your palm and looks into your eyes.

“I don’t want things between us to be ruined,” he says just above a whisper.

Your heart sinks, you don’t know what he did but by the sounds of that it’s not good. There are few things that could jeopardize the relationship you two have and your face falls when you think about what he could’ve done.

When the thought crosses your mind you remove your hands from him and place them in your lap. You just stare at them and try to fight the urge to cry, even though tears are filling your eyes.

At first he is confused at your change in demeanor, then he realizes the only thing that could be going through your head.

“No, no, no,” he quickly grabs your hands. “It’s not that, I didn’t cheat on you. I swear on my life.”

“You have been gone a lot of nights recently,” you say. “How can you explain that?”

He sighs, “I can’t.”

The first tear falls from your eye. “Okay,” you choke before getting up and out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Julian asks, concerned, as you put on a shirt and some leggings.

“To clear my head,” you say while putting on a cardigan and boots.

“Y/N, listen, you have to believe that it wasn’t that.”

“I can’t Julian,” you snap and you can see him tense up. “You haven’t been around most nights, you won’t tell me what’s going on with you, when was the last time we even had dinner together? And I can’t even recall the last time we had sex so it wouldn’t surprise me that your getting it from someone else,” all your sadness had turned to rage, you cross your arms and lean onto your hip.

“Please, just believe me,” he looks up at you with his bright blue, puppy eyes. A look that use to make you do anything, but not now.

“I’ll believe it when you prove it,” you go to walk out the bedroom door.

“Y/N it’s 3 a.m. It’s not safe to be walking around the city.”

You ignore him and just keep walking, you make sure to slam the door of your apartment shut. You stand in the hallway for a moment. Waiting to hear Julian’s footsteps coming after you but they never come. You shake your head and head for the stairs, that’s enough for you to prove you’re right.

Julian wakes up the next morning and sees you’re still not home. He wanted to go after you when you left but seeing you walk away broke him. He couldn’t move or speak, all he could do was sob and sob. He cried himself to sleep and woke up to his pillowcase still damp from his tears.

He did his best to pull himself together and get ready for work. He couldn’t hide that his eyes were red, puffy, and bloodshot and he didn’t even have the energy to fix his hair. He just put on some clothes and left for the precinct.

When he got to the lab he was surprised to see Barry already there. He would’ve made a snarky remark about Barry being early for once in his life but he couldn’t even muster up enough energy for that. He just went straight to his desk, saying nothing.

Barry looked at him for a second, awaiting the snarky remark he undoubtedly deserved. It never came, Julian immediately pulled out some files and got to work. Barry tilted his head in confusion, that’s when he noticed it. He could tell Julian had been up all night, he could see he’d been crying and that his normal scowl was more of a saddened pout.

“Hey, Julian are you okay?” Barry asks.

“I’m fine, Allen,” he replied, except Barry could tell by his tone he was indeed not fine.

Before Barry could say anything Joe runs into the room. “Barry we need you to head down to a crime scene and Julian I need you to come with me.”

Barry knowing Julian was having a rough day thought maybe solving a case would lighten him up. “I think Julian should head down to the scene,” he says. “He’s a better CSI.”

“No, I need him to head over to the hospital with me.”

“Hospital?” Julian stands up. “Why?” Worry starts to fill his voice, the only thing running through his head is you.

Joe lets out a sigh, “It’s Y/N, she got hurt last night. She was found just a little over an hour ago, it was bad. Barry needs to go look at the crime scene and Julian you should see Y/N. I can explain more to you on the way.”

Julian feels sick to his stomach as Joe told him the whole story during the car ride to the Central City Hospital. It happened barely two blocks from your apartment building. All the police knew so far was that you had been pulled into a back alley and were stabbed. The only thing keeping her from bleeding out was the switchblade remaining lodged in her stomach. That was all the knew, they hadn’t gotten a statement from you yet. When you were found you were out cold and all the anesthetics are continuing to keep you that way.

Julian feels the air knocked out from his lungs when he steps into your hospital room. The sight of your weak, limp body would surely be enough to cause him to break down again, but there were no tears left in him.

“I’ll give you two your space,” Joe rests a hand on Julian’s shoulder before exiting the room.

Julian stands in the doorway, mouth hanging a gap for a few moments before walking towards you. He sits in a chair next to your hospital bed and takes your normally warm hand in his, shivers go up his spine when he feels how cold you are. He sighs running his free hand through his hair.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he breathes out. “This is all my fault,” he shakes his head before taking your hand in both of his. “I swear as soon as your up I’ll explain everything,” he rests his head on your hand. “I’ll make this better, I promise,” a tear slips down his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats over and over again.

An hour passes, Julian’s head still rests on your hand.

“So, this is Y/N?” He hears a voice in the doorway ask. He looks up to see Barry leaning on the door frame. He nods before turning back to her. “You’ve never mentioned her.”

“In case you haven’t noticed I don’t consider you a close friend, do I, Allen?” He remarks, eyes fixated on your features. “What did you learn from the scene?”

“Well, she was found around six, from the looks of the scene and the wound she must’ve been stabbed around five,” Barry explains.

“That makes no sense,” Julian shakes her head. “She left at three, the scene was only two blocks from our apartment it wouldn’t take her two hours to get there.”

“Maybe she was walking back,” Barry suggest.

“No, I know where she was going and she wouldn’t go by the alley where she was found.”

“I guess we just have to wait until she wakes up to know what happened in that time gap. I’ll leave you two alone until then,” he says before leaving the room.

Julian caresses your face, “What happened to you?” He whispers.

He studies your face. He notices your eyes rapidly moving while shut, just as they would if you were having a nightmare. Your breathing picks up, your chest moving up and down frantically. Your heart rate steadily goes up and sweat begins to trickle down your face. Julian grows worried at the sight, not knowing what to do, if he should wake you up or not.

You start to mumble something, “Don’t touch, don’t touch me,” you repeat, getting louder. You jolt awake panting.

“Y/N,” Julian places a hand on the small of your back.

“No!” You shout causes him to back off. “Don’t touch me,” you bury your head in your hands, starting to cry.

“Love, what happened,” he quietly asks.

“He was so scary,” you choke out.

“Who?” He asks but you stay silent. “Baby, who was it?”

“I don’t know,” your voice is a whisper, you hug your knees into your chest. “It was dark and I was blindfolded,” the tears stream down your face. “And then-then-” you couldn’t finish the sentence.

Julian can already put two and two together. “Y/N, I’m so sorry this happened,” he says, ashamed of himself. He knows this is all his fault, he should’ve just told you the truth from the start. “This is all my fault,” he hesitantly places a hand on you back. He can feel your body shake as you cry. “I should’ve told you what was going on.”

“Julian, I don’t care to think about that right now,” your voice is muffled due to the fact your head is still buried in your knees. You turn your head so your cheek is resting on your knee and your facing him, except you can’t make eye contact. You take one of his hands in yours, your grip weak. “Can you just lay with me?” Your voice is almost as weak as your grip.

“Anything, love,” he says before crawling next to you on your small hospital bed.

You rest your head and a hand on his chest. You sigh as you grasp and release the material of his shirt. Your mind is filled with the memories that will forever be embedded in your brain. You screaming and fighting, trying to escape but nothing worked. Then, Julian’s arms wrap around you and suddenly you feel safe again.

“I’ll never let anything like this happen again,” he speaks, softly. “I promise,” he whispers before kissing the top of your head.

“I love you.”

Julian smiles at your words, glad that even though there’s some damage you’re here. You’re safe in his arms.

“I love you, too.”

flickr

(via Chicago, 9 AUG'70 | The kinds of trains that little switcher… | Flickr)

Caption: “The City of New Orleans beginning its journey to its namesake city while passing the 27th Street Roundhouse that the Illinois Central used to service its passenger fleet.”

Chicago

August 9, 1970

Photo by Paul Enenbach

flickr

67 Cadillac Eldorado by Greg Gjerdingen
Via Flickr:
40th ANNUAL GREENBERG MEMORIAL DAY CAR SHOW & SWAP MEET Hosted by: The North Central Chapter Hudson Essex Terraplane Club May 26, 2014 Cambridge Minnesota

6

Found the parking depot for where they store a few of the CCPD cars! Also (EDIT) this is a setup of the trailers a few blocks away for the filming that they will be doing for The Flash tomorrow near Terry Fox Plaza. The road will be closed from 9pm to 4am, so I expect a night shoot. HQs on the way?

Jerome Valeska- Homework

An: i put this on wattpad but i wasn’t getting teh views so it came to tumblr woo

Jerome Valeska x reader

mild fluff.


The high school that was in Gotham(which had the original name of Gotham High), had a football tournament with a neighbouring school.

(Y/N) wasn’t exactly what you’d call ‘athletic’, she didn’t participate in any sort of sports clubs of any kind. But she had a keen eye for journalism. She did help to run the school’s newspapers and, every year, she, with along a couple other people, designed the yearbooks and other offical stuff like that.

(Y/N) was frequently asked by the head of year to go along to one of the matches to really get a detailed overview of what happened. She never did, because she figured she could ask  her friend, Angie, who was a star cheerleader, what went down. But sometimes Angie wasn’t very reliable. So she eventually decided to tag along to a game.

“(Y/N), wanna come sit with us on the bus?” Angie asked as her and the football team started to board the iconic yellow school bus. (Y/N) shook her head.

“Thanks, but i need to catch up on some homework. Gotta have some peace and quiet.” She said while pointing to her dark red backpack.

Angie looked a little disappointed, but flipped her beach blonde hair back and gave Julia a little smile.

“Ok, see ya around. Can’t wait for you to see my amazing cheerleading skills!” She joked.

“Yes, yes Angie, i’ll write something about the cheerleaders.” She assured her friend.

“And…?”

“And i’ll comment on how excellent your kicks are.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes while smiling.

“Thanks boo!” Angie nuzzled (Y/N) into a hug, (Y/N) looking a little surprised, but patted her back gently. Angie then hopped into the bus to sit with the other cheerleaders.

(Y/N) was just about to walk in as well until the footballers of the school shoved pass her, almost knocking her over. She grumbled, pondering whether to make a big deal out of it, but decided against it.

She plodded to the back of the bus, and slumped in the uncomfortable chair, sighing, and then pulling out a green textbook.


==============================================================================

(Y/N) was so caught up in her work that she couldn’t notice the bus being hijacked by the recently let out psychopaths. To be fair, her black beats headphones blasted music in her ear to the maximum, which probably wasn’t very smart.

Just as she was about to write the word ‘the’, the book was yanked from her hands and thrown randomly, hitting the head of one of the team.

She abruptly looked up, to be met with an unexpected view.

Jerome Valeska.

One of the murderous psychos that was busted out of Arkham Asylum. 

He was a redhead, around the age of (Y/N) , and green/blue eyes, the same ones staring at her paired with a sinister smile.

(An: you’re around 17 in this story sorry not sorry)

Jerome was scarily close; you could see the freckles dotted around his cheeks.

‘Gingers’, she thought rudely.

“Well that’s just unfortunate, you missed out on the big show.” He mumbled eerily. (Y/N) couldn’t comprehend what he was saying; she paid more attention to the fact that she could probably die. Sweat fell down her forehead in pearls.

His smile then changed into a frown, and his eyebrows arched. Jerome then got up from his crouched position and threw his hands back.

“What, are you not gonna say anything? Come on,” he growled, glaring at her like she was a piece of meat,“speak, i dare you.”

(Y/N) was doing that thing where her throat was spasming, barely being able to breathe. She could almost cry. The way he saw death as if it was nothing. Sickening even.

Jerome was starting to get impatient, tapping the tops of the crappy chairs with his fingers, slapping his thighs in a rhythmic way, running a hand through his gelled hair.

“You’re boring. I think i’m just gonna kill you.” He said lightheartedly while pulling out his pistol.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock and she almost screamed “Wait!” To which Jerome had her at gunpoint, with a scowl.

It was just then she realised all the cheerleaders and footballers that were handcuffed to the seats with duct tape on their mouths, soaked in gasoline, but with interest in their eyes, were looking at them.

How the hell did she miss getting covered in gasoline? And why was she still intact? That’s what she’d ask Jerome, even if it did kill her.

“Uh… Um, h-how come e-veryone is handcuffed a-and,” she paused to regain her composure, “has duct tape over their mouths, but i’m fine?” She breathed heavily. Like getting your exam results back.

He smiled a coy smile. Not exactly what she expected. He relaxed his eyebrows, which sent an all-clear sign to (Y/N). He loosened his grip on the pistol.

Jerome was about to reply, but then the distinctive sound of police sirens rose as cop cars came into sight on the right. He groaned and muttered in annoyance. But a glint of a good idea sparkled through his eyes.

He looked back at (Y/N), grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat, “who knows? You’re coming with me.” He demanded.

(Y/N) shook her head skittishly but he grabbed her arm and dragged her along.

Before she was out of the bus she caught a glimpse of her friend Angie, in the same state as the rest of the people on that bus. (Y/N) saw the worry that filled her eyes.

As soon as she was out of the bus, the sound of a gun cocking was heard and the feeling of a cool gun was harsh on her temple.

She felt a presence behind her grip her by the shoulders and her back touching a chest, which she could only assume it was Jerome’s.

(Y/N) could feel his breathing on her neck. ‘Oh, so he is alive. Thought he was a vampire or something.’

“He looks like a male prostitute, what with his suit having black fabric around his crotch looking like a thong.” (Y/N) spoke aloud, without realising.

“Excuse me?” Jerome pulled her hair to bend her head to the side more and aimed the pistol by her neck. He was even closer than before. (Y/N) cursed.

“Did i s-say that out loud?” She squeaked at him, to which he nodded slowly, smirking. She gulped, looking ahead to see GCPD cars.

No surprise that the men that stepped out of the central car were Detectives Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock. They displayed a look of determination while ironically walking uncertainly.

Harvey nudged Jim and he said something inaudible for the Maniax and (Y/N) to him. Jim nodded. And Jim looked to the little fiasco with steady hands.

“Jerome, release the hostage and the bus now. If you all willingly do so, we can arrange to shorten all of your stays at Arkham. We’re only telling you this once.” He offered to the Maniax, Jerome scowling.

He shuffled around a bit which made (Y/N)’s position more unbearably painful than before. It had now come that he had his right arm clutched tightly around her, his nails digging into her forearm. The pistol was still pointed at her neck though.

“By how much?” Jerome asked with a sharp intake of breath before. (Y/N)’s face grew flustered, but she couldn’t pinpoint the reason why.

It wasn’t because she thought he was attractive, did she? No!

No.

He was a murderous, crazy ginger. That isn’t the best combination that a girl could want.

But, he had charisma and charm. That’s what any girl would want.

“I’m sorry?” Harvey yelled because there was a distance between the sides.

Jerome lowered his head and glared daggers.

“I said, by how much!” He shouted at them. She could feel the tension growing. (Y/N) was almost certain that some people were going to die today. She felt tears brimming at the thought of possible events.

Jim Gordon stared at them for a bit, then quickly conversed with Harvey before looking back. Harvey stopped him and pushed him gently to the car because he knew that someone was going to fire a gun.

He eventually yelled, “six months!” (Y/N) knew that wouldn’t have been satisfactory for Jerome, or the rest of the Maniax for that matter.

“Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Are you kidding me? Six months off a life sentence? Ha!” He bawled, the other three escapees joining in, “you’re a joker, Jimbo! Boys?” He looked to them again, halting their chuckles,

“Shoot to kill” he orders, and they fire their guns. Jim and Harvey sprint to opposite sides.

As (Y/N) witnessed the shattering of a car window, and the outing of a nameless cop, she couldn’t bear the situation, couldn’t bear the pistol by her jugular, couldn’t bear the firm arm wrapped around her.

And she lost it.

She started to sob and wail and bawl and cry, and Jerome stopped chuckling and gazed at her.

“Hey, what’s wrong (Y/N)?” He asked. If she hadn’t been crying, she would’ve realised that he used her name, even though he never asked.

“J-just leave me be! I want to go home! I don’t want to die!” She choked out.

He slowly took away the pistol from her neck and pulled her back to the doors of the coach. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her sincerely.

“Hey, don’t cry now. Life’s a joke and i’m the jester. It doesn’t help to be down all the time. Lighten up!” He groveled while (Y/N) just stared at the ground.

He looked out into the distance in frustration. 'It was going to take a bit more effort to calm down a wailing woman’ he thought.

And thought. He didn’t quite mind her, even if she was a little nervous.

Jerome did admire how her flowing ink black hair contrasted with the depth of (Y/N)’s forest-y green eyes. Maybe if she would smile like he did she’d look out-of-this-world pretty. He came up with an idea.

(An: and you have black hair and green eyes as well. It’s because i actually made a person but tumblr prefers to be the person :3)

“Hey!” He exclaimed while moving his hands to her upper arms, “why don’t you help me set your school bus in a flame? It could look real gorgeous.” Jerome added.

(Y/N) stared at him in horror. She could never do such a thing. Burning her friend alight. It was unmentionable, disgraceful, prepost-

'It sounds kinda awesome.’ She inwardly thought.

“No! I can’t and i won’t. Im not a killer!” She told Jerome and herself.

“Suit yourself. But you’re still my hostage, so you can come and watch.” He told her as he dragged her again by the forearm to a little corner where the trail of gasoline started.

He pulled a lighter out of his back pocket, smirking in her direction, and ignited it.

Well he tried.

It was out of fuel.

“Ugh, this is embarassing. Anyone got a light?” He called to the rest of the team. And one of them ran up to him eagerly.

He looked harmless, but (Y/N) knew that he was anything but that. He was just shooting the cops.

He passed Jerome a ready lighter.

She glued her eyes to the flame; when it sparked out of the lighter, when it reacted to the gasoline, making a jaggedy line slowly leading to the bus where Angie and the team were trapped.

She saw how Jim Gordon sprinted to the bus.

Jerome threw the lighter to the side, and took her hand.

“We’re going!” He said excitedly, rushing to the van he came in, she assumed.

“But-but I can’t leave! My friend’s in there!” She cried to Jerome as she was pushed in the seat of the van.

He merely slammed the door in her pleading face. She tried to escape but he had thought one step ahead and locked the car until he could get in. She bashed the door helplessly.

“Wow, you should maybe put your seatbelt on. Wouldn’t want to break your beautiful face, would we?” He climbed in while she rested her head on the door.

“Didn’t even let me finish my homework.” She spat at him.

He cackled loudly and placed a kiss on her cheek as she sat back up.

And she blushed.

An: Yeah it’s not very fluffy or smutty sorry. I just felt like a retake if somebody was there that Jerome fancied.

Ha i think im a good writer 😒

Originally posted by rpvisualosities

flickr

Penn Central Business Car 8 brings up the rear of the combined Cininnatti Limited and Spirit of St. Louis in Indianaplis, IN on March 25, 1971. by Marty Bernard
Via Flickr:
Picture 2 of 2

flickr

80 Dodge St.Regis by Greg Gjerdingen
Via Flickr:
On the way back from: 40th ANNUAL GREENBERG MEMORIAL DAY CAR SHOW & SWAP MEET Hosted by: The North Central Chapter Hudson Essex Terraplane Club May 26, 2014 Cambridge Minnesota