east river view

Night view of Lower Manhattan’s Financial District skyscrapers and Brooklyn Bridge’s viaduct. View looking southwest from East River, late 1962.

Photo: Shostal, New York.

Source: Roland Gööck. “Maravillas del Mundo. Prodigios de la Naturaleza y realizaciones del hombre, desde las cataratas del Niágara hasta las bases espaciales”. (España, Barcelona, Ediciones Nauta, 1968).

anonymous asked:

Yes please Sprace Sunrise fic. If the temptation wasn't enough, consider this a prompt :)

It’s relatively loosely based, but I hope you enjoy!

For those who don’t know, Sunrise is a song from In The Heights that you should all go listen to here, because it’s gorgeous.

Italian meant a lot to Race. It was his heritage, his roots, his family. Or at least it used to be. Now it was just what was left of them. After a fire left him with nothing – no family, no belongings and no future – he clung to his Italian lineage. It was something he didn’t share.

Five years after Race had lost everything, he had something that vaguely resembled a decent life. A shitty job, but a pay check. A shitty apartment, but a roof over his head. He was twenty-one and completely alone. Well, not quite completely alone. There was Spot.

Spot was his… someone. They’d never given it a label. There were no dates and no flowers or boxes of chocolate, but it wasn’t quite just sex. It was intimate and neither of them were sleeping with anyone else. Race supposed it was kind of like dating, but only within the walls of his apartment.

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