times square show


Rory and Jess after the series finale; life in New York

optomisticgirl  asked:

Bed sharing? I'm a sucker for that.

god, i’m a sucker for this, too. thanks for this, B, because the minute i saw this, the wheels started turning! this turned into something bigger than i had planned and whoa, just wowwie, thanks for that! 


Quite a few things fall within the top ten category of Annoyances in Emma Swan’s Life (trademark pending). 

There’s the day to day stuff that barely scratches the top fifty. The skips that make her break a heel at least once a month fall into the top twenty-five. 

Having no say whatsoever in chaperoning Henry’s eighth grade field trip to New York City? Well, that would be a top fifteen situation, if it weren’t for the fact that she managed to get out of work for this and spend some much needed quality time with her son. 

Finding out she’s sharing a room with another chaperone? That’s definitely a top fifteen situation, because the last time Emma shared a room with anyone it was with her cousin, Anna, and she quickly found out that the girl was just as talkative asleep as she was awake. 

Finding out she’s sharing a room with Mr. Killian Jones, Henry’s science teacher and cough guy Emma slept with exactly ten months ago and quickly put a stop to things because she so does not sleep with her son’s teachers? That quickly falls into a top ten situation. 

Opening the door to see they’ve been crammed in the most economical size room - one double bed, one desk, one dresser with a television from the stone ages (or at least back when Henry was born) and one arm chair all fit perfectly like a Sims room, with just enough floor space for two people to walk single file? 

Yeah, now she’s definitely tapped into the top five. 

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Manchester and Concerts

I have seen many posts about the Manchester tragedy and how many people, young and older, are scared to attend their upcoming concerts and I just want to say one thing:

DONT LET TERRORISTS WIN. Terrorist mentality is to see an effect come from their actions. If they see they can scare us by attacking us at concerts, the threat will become stronger. It is similar to 9/11. Many were worried to be out and about New City.

But when New Years came around, all of New York came together in Times Square to show that they were strong and would continue to live despite these attacks.

Now I am not saying you shouldn’t be afraid. It is a scary thought that not even a concert can be a sort of safe place. What I am saying is TO KEEP LIVING. Continue doing what you love.

Living a life of fear results in missed opportunities and happiness. Dont let cowards who hide behind bombs take that away because our spirit are the only things we carry towards the end.

New Year’s Kiss

yepp, it’s a little late. anyway, enjoy the destielness. it’s about 1,400 words. 

Castiel sighed down at the red cup in his hand. He glanced at the watch on his left wrist. 11:27. He looked up at the TV, which was showing Times Square full of people. He looked around the small room. There were two couches, a ping pong table, and a small table with snacks and drinks on it. Cas sat down in an open spot on the couch and bit the lip of his plastic cup.

People milled around and conversed as New Year’s Day approached. There were plenty of couples that would get their kisses at midnight, but Cas wasn’t a part of any one of them. It was his final year of college, and he still hadn’t found anyone to share that special moment with.

Suddenly, someone flopped down onto the couch next to him. Startled, Cas turned to him with wide eyes. He spotted tan skin dusted with freckles and green eyes, bright like they held a secret.

“Hi,” the man said to him. He smiled a little mischievously, and Cas caught a glimpse of straight white teeth behind pink lips.

“Hello,” Cas replied, unsure why this cute man was talking to him.

“I’m Dean,” he said, and stuck out a hand.

“Castiel,” he said cautiously as he took Dean’s hand.

“So, Cas, how are you doing on this fine evening?”

“I’m sorry, why are you talking to me?” Cas bluntly asked, still confused.

“Well, honestly, you looked lonely. And you’re cute,” Dean said with a shrug. “And cute people shouldn’t be alone when the New Year begins,” he added with a wink.

Cas looked away as a blush tinted his cheeks. “Did you ever think that I would prefer to be alone?” Cas retorted, not willing to give in easy.

“If you really wanted to be alone, you wouldn’t be at a party,” Dean said, turning his body to Cas and putting an elbow on the top of the couch.

“Actually, my friend Charlie dragged me here.” Cas pointed at a laughing redhead one the other side of the room. “I had no say.”

“Yeah, I know how she can be. She was in one of my history classes last year,” Dean commented.

“Oh really? She never mentioned you,” Cas furrowed his brow.

“Oh, we never actually talked much, but man, could she argue. She debated with the professor practically every class about one thing or another, and won most of the time.”

“Yeah, she sure doesn’t give up easily,” Cas conceded.

“So, Cas, back to the question. How are you doing?”  Dean said after a minute of silence.

“I’m fine, Dean.” Cas didn’t want to reveal how lonely he really had been, and how thankful he was that Dean had sat down to talk to him.

“Fine? Aw, we can do better than that,” Dean teased him. “Tell me about yourself, O Mysterious One.”

Cas looked over at Dean with a cocked eyebrow. Dean raised both of his and nodded once, as if to say Yes, I’m being serious. I’m waiting.

Cas sighed. “My full name is Castiel Novak.  I have one older brother, Gabriel, and a younger sister, Anna.” He bit his lip in thought as he tried to think of something else to tell Dean.

“What’s your major?” Dean asked, saving him from the silence.

“Psychology,” Cas said. “Yours?”

“Sports medicine,” Dean replied. “What are some of your favorites?”

“Favorite whats?” Cas asked, confused.

“Favorite everything. Color, food, book, movie, planet, time of day, whatever,” Dean suggested with a shrug.

“Color, green. Food, hamburgers. Book, undecided. I’ve read too many. Movie,” Cas thought for a second. “Probably Star Wars. Planet? I’m a huge fan of Pluto. And time of day? I think I have to go with 7 pm.”

“Why 7?” Dean asked, looking curious.

Cas shrugged. “It’s when Jeopardy comes on,” he said, embarrassed. He looked at the cup still in his hand. Dean let out a laugh, and Cas looked up at him, furious he had the nerve to laugh at him. When Dean saw his face though, he stopped laughing.

“Oh, God, Cas, I’m not laughing at you, I promise,” he assured him. “I’m laughing because I love that show. I watch it practically every night. I’m just glad I found another nerd,” Dean teased.

Cas, pretending to look offended, put a hand to his chest and feigned a gasp. “Nerd? I am no nerd.”

Dean gave him a deadpan stare. “Come on. You’ve read too many books to pick a favorite? Your favorite movie is Star Wars? You’re a fan of Pluto? Dude, you’re a nerd, but I can dig that. I’m kind of a nerd too.”

“Kind of? Let’s hear what you got,” Cas said.

“My favorite movie is Star Trek. My favorite planet is Jupiter because it’s huge and looks really badass. My favorite time of day is also 7, also for the same reason. And my favorite books are the Lord of the Rings.”

Cas stroked his chin as if he had a beard, deep in fake thought. Finally, he stuck out his hand for a handshake. “Welcome to the Nerd Club. Members, 2.”

Dean let out a laugh and shook his hand. “Thank you. It’s an honor to be here.”

“The honor is all mine. But first, a question.”

“Anything for you, Cas,” Dean teased.

Cas dropped the honorable club act. “Star Trek? Really?”

Dean gaped at him, caught off guard. “What do you mean, really? Yes, Star Trek! It’s amazing!”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Star Wars is so much better,” he said, knowing it would set Dean off.

“Oh, no you don’t. Star Wars is so unrealistic. I mean, the force? What is that all about? You can’t just move stuff with the energy coming off people, or whatever,” Dean argued

“Dean, the whole thing is unrealistic, for both of them. We’re talking extensive space exploration, warp travel,” Cas argued back, throwing in the Star Trek term to make his point. “Teleportation, force fields, hundreds of thousands of alien species.”

“Yeah, well, the force is ridiculous,” Dean stated again, clearly unsure of how to rebut Cas. He laughed at Dean, so flustered by Cas’ argument.

“Well, Mr.—wait, what’s your last name?” Cas asked.


“Well, Mr. Winchester. Tell me more about yourself. Siblings? Favorite color and food? How about a favorite song?”

“Alright, Mr. Novak. I have a younger brother, Sammy. Great kid. Trying to get him into law school. He’s so smart, he’s gonna help so many people,” Dean started. Cas couldn’t help but smile at the pride on Dean’s face. “Color? Blue,” he continued, looking straight in Cas’ eyes. “Food? Gotta be bacon cheeseburger. And pie. Never forget the pie.” Cas laughed at this. “As far as favorite song, it’s a tie.”

“Between which two songs?” Cas prompted, confused at Dean’s hesitation.

“’Ramble On’ and ‘Traveling Riverside Blues’”

Cas’ eyes widened. “You listen to Led Zeppelin?” he asked, completely surprised.

Dean eyed him warily. “Yeah, why?”

“I love Led Zeppelin! I didn’t think anyone else listened to them much these days,” Cas admitted.

“Well would ya look at that, we have something in common,” Dean smiled at him, and Cas returned the smile.

They had gotten so caught up in talking that they had forgotten about the television, now showing the ball dropping in New York City. The people around them started chanting down from 10 as the New Year closed in.

“One more question, Cas,” Dean said as he leaned in closer so Cas could hear him over the chanting. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Cas waited only a second before closing the gap between their lips. Dean froze, surprised, before returning the kiss, sliding a hand along Cas’ jaw. The calls of, “Happy New Year!” became fuzzy as sparks flew behinds Cas’ eyelids.

Unwilling to make a scene at the party Cas pulled back enough to look into Dean’s eyes.

“No. I’m not seeing anyone,” Cas said, breaths dancing across Dean’s lips. “Unless…” he let his thought trail off.

“Come over tomorrow. I’ll make burgers and we can watch Jeopardy together. We’ll determine the real nerd here,” Dean suggested, winking at Cas.

Cas leaned in, giving Dean another small kiss. “You can try,” he said, “but you will lose.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Jean-Michel Basquiat (December 22, 1960 – August 12, 1988) was an American artist who began his career creating graffiti art in the Lower East Side of ManhattanNew York City in the late 1970s. By the 1980s he was exhibiting his Neo-expressionist and Primitivist paintings in galleries and museums internationally, but he died of a heroin overdose at the age of 27 in 1988. In 1992 the Whitney Museum of American Art held a retrospective of his art.

Basquiat’s art focused on “suggestive dichotomies,” such as wealth versus poverty, integration versus segregation, and inner versus outer experience. He appropriated poetry, drawing and painting, and married text and image, abstraction and figuration, and historical information mixed with contemporary critique.

Basquiat used social commentary in his paintings as a “springboard to deeper truths about the individual”, as well as attacks on power structures and systems of racism, while his poetics were acutely political and direct in their criticism of colonialism and support for class struggle.

Jean-Michel Basquiat, born in Brooklyn, New York, was the second of four children of Matilda Andrades (July 28, 1934 – November 17, 2008) and Gerard Basquiat (born 1930). He had two younger sisters: Lisane, born in 1964, and Jeanine, born in 1967.

His father, Gerard Basquiat, was born in Port-au-PrinceHaiti, and his mother, Matilde Basquiat, of Afro-Puerto Rican descent, was born in Brooklyn, New York. Matilde instilled a love for art in her young son by taking him to art museums in Manhattan and enrolling him as a junior member of the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Basquiat was a precocious child who learned how to read and write by age four and was a gifted artist. His teachers noticed his artistic abilities, and his mother encouraged her son’s artistic talent. By the age of 11, Basquiat could fluently speak, read and write French, Spanish, and English.

In September 1968, when Basquiat was about 8, he was hit by a car while playing in the street. His arm was broken and he suffered several internal injuries, and he eventually underwent a splenectomy. While he was recuperating from his injuries, his mother brought him the Gray’s Anatomy book to keep him occupied. This book would prove to be influential in his future artistic outlook. His parents separated that year and he and his sisters were raised by their father. The family resided in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, for five years, then moved to San Juan, Puerto Rico in 1974. After two years, they returned to New York City.

When he was 11, his mother was committed to a mental institution and thereafter spent time in and out of institutions. At 15, Basquiat ran away from home. He slept on park benches inWashington Square Park, and was arrested and returned to the care of his father within a week.

Basquiat dropped out of Edward R. Murrow High School in the tenth grade. His father banished him from the household and Basquiat stayed with friends in Brooklyn. He supported himself by selling T-shirts and homemade post cards.

In 1976, Basquiat and friend Al Diaz began spray-painting graffiti on buildings in Lower Manhattan, working under the pseudonym SAMO. The designs featured inscribed messages such as “Plush safe he think.. SAMO” and “SAMO as an escape clause”. In 1978, Basquiat worked for the world famous Unique Clothing Warehouse, in their art department, at 718 Broadway in NoHo and at night he became “SAMO[14]” painting his original graffiti art on neighborhood buildings. Harvey discovered Basquiat painting a building one night, they became friends, and Harvey offered him a day job. On December 11, 1978, the Village Voicepublished an article about the graffiti. When Basquiat & Diaz ended their friendship, The SAMO project ended with the epitaph “SAMO IS DEAD,” inscribed on the walls of SoHo buildings in 1979.

In 1979, Basquiat appeared on the live public-access television cable TV show TV Party hosted by Glenn O'Brien, and the two started a friendship. Basquiat made regular appearances on the show over the next few years. That same year, Basquiat formed the noise rock band Test Pattern – which was later renamed Gray – which played at Arleen Schloss´s open space, “Wednesdays at A`s”, where in October 1979 Basquiat showed, among others, his SAMO color Xerox work.

Gray also consisted of Shannon Dawson, Michael Holman, Nick Taylor, Wayne Clifford and Vincent Gallo, and the band performed at nightclubs such asMax’s Kansas CityCBGBHurrah, and the Mudd Club. In 1980, Basquiat starred in O'Brien's independent film Downtown 81, originally titled New York Beat. That same year, Basquiat met Andy Warhol at a restaurant. Basquiat presented to Warhol samples of his work, and Warhol was stunned by Basquiat’s genius and allure. The men later collaborated. Downtown 81 featured some of Gray’s recordings on its soundtrack. Basquiat also appeared in the Blondie music video “Rapture” as a nightclub disc jockey.

The early 1980s were Basquiat’s breakthrough as a solo artist. In June 1980, Basquiat participated in The Times Square Show, a multi-artist exhibition sponsored by Collaborative Projects Incorporated (Colab) and Fashion Moda. In September of the same year, Basquiat joined the Annina Nosei gallery and worked in a basement below the gallery toward his first one-man show, which took place in March 1981 with great success (helping him prepare the show was Joe La Placa, who soon became a partner with Guillaume Gallozzi in the Gallozzi-La Placa Gallery, a promoter of Basquiat and other graffiti luminaries). In late 1981, Rene Ricard published “The Radiant Child” in Artforum magazine, which brought Basquiat to the attention of the art world.

From November 1982, Basquiat worked from the ground-floor display and studio space Larry Gagosian had built below his Venice home and commenced a series of paintings for a 1983 show, his second at Gagosian Gallery, then in West Hollywood. During this time he took considerable interest in the work thatRobert Rauschenberg was producing at Gemini G.E.L. in West Hollywood, visiting him on several occasions and finding inspiration in the accomplishments of the painter. In 1982, Basquiat also worked briefly with musician and artist David Bowie.

In 1983, Basquiat produced a 12" rap single featuring hip-hop artists Rammellzee and K-Rob. Billed as Rammellzee vs. K-Rob, the single contained two versions of the same track: “Beat Bop” on side one with vocals and “Beat Bop” on side two as an instrumental. The single was pressed in limited quantities on the one-off Tartown Record Company label. The single’s cover featured Basquiat’s artwork, making the pressing highly desirable among both record and art collectors.

At the suggestion of Swiss dealer Bruno Bischofberger, Warhol and Basquiat worked on a series of collaborative paintings between 1983 and 1985. In the case of Olympic Rings (1985), Warhol made several variations of the Olympic five-ring symbol, rendered in the original primary colors. Basquiat responded to the abstract, stylized logos with his oppositional graffiti style.

Basquiat often painted in expensive Armani suits and would even appear in public in the same paint-splattered suits.

By 1986, Basquiat had left the Annina Nosei gallery, and was showing in the famous Mary Boone gallery in SoHo. On February 10, 1985, he appeared on the cover of The New York Times Magazinein a feature entitled “New Art, New Money: The Marketing of an American Artist”.[27] He was a successful artist in this period, but his growing heroin addiction began to interfere with his personal relationships.

When Andy Warhol died on February 22, 1987, Basquiat became increasingly isolated, and his heroin addiction and depression grew more severe. Despite an attempt at sobriety during a trip to Maui, Hawaii, Basquiat died on August 12, 1988, of a heroin overdose at his art studio in Great Jones Street in New York City's NoHo neighborhood. He was 27.

Basquiat was interred in Brooklyn's Green-Wood Cemetery.

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